


Find Someone to Carry You

by Meddalarksen, victoriousscarf



Category: Cats - Andrew Lloyd Webber, Firefly, Serenity (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Minor Character Death, Minor Injuries, Minor Violence, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-16
Updated: 2012-11-03
Packaged: 2017-11-07 21:04:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 69,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/435446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meddalarksen/pseuds/Meddalarksen, https://archiveofourown.org/users/victoriousscarf/pseuds/victoriousscarf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Years after the war to unify the system, Macavity just wants to keep his ship in the sky despite ever growing Alliance interference and Reaver encroachment. Fugitives are only going to make that harder, as one's a walking weapon. A Cats AU using Firefly situations.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Everybody's Makin' a Fuss

**Author's Note:**

> Of all our adaptations, VS will admit this is the one I'm the most frightened of posting, for knowing the sheer fan following this series holds. Firefly has intense loyalty from it's fans and I can hope we do it justice (Being some of those intensely loyal fans ourselves). But the idea of Mac as Mal was just too good to pass up.
> 
> Our usual disclaimers for re-writes apply: Things will go off script, and relationships will be done differently. The episodes in this one get pretty scrambled and re-ordered and there are some scenes we had to let go: so much of the writing on this show is almost flawless so we can tell you now how hard it was to let some scenes go but we could hardly keep all of them.
> 
> Thank you very much for reading! Please leave us a line and let us know what you thought of it, we love hearing from our readers!

Striding into the sunlight, Macavity shaded his eyes as he looked over the bustling spaceport. "Alright, here's how it goes. Tugger, Jems, you and me are taking these damn goods to Genghis. They've been burning a hole in my deck too long. Pounce, you go find the supplies we need. Misto, four hours planetside. Get us passengers."

The smallest of the group perked up as he stepped forward. "Passengers? Really Capt?"

Tugger rolled his eyes and muttered something but Mac just nodded. "Need the extra money. Find us good ones."

Pounce touched his brow in a sort of salute, "Right, supplies and then come back and make sure we're set to leave in four hours. Got it."

"Good," Mac said, pleased that for once it looked like his ship was running smoothly. Striding down the gangplank, he paused in front of the electronic placard in front of their ship, inputting some data. Mistoffelees trailed after him.

"I'd really love to be able to pick up a new compression coil," the mechanic started.

"And I'd love to be king of all Londinum and wear a shiny hat. Find us them passengers that can pay, all right?"

"If that dies, we're going to be drifting," the mechanic told him with a slight frown.

"Best not bust then," Mac said, stepping away and nodding to Tugger and Jemima to follow him as Mistoffelees rolled his eyes and muttered something in Chinese under his breath.

Pounce watched them start off, "Jemi!" He called after his wife, switching to Chinese mid way through, "Watch your back."

Offering him a smile, she nodded. "Always am," she replied, before following her captain and Tugger into the shouting, haggling, and teaming crowd.

He sighed, shaking his head and murmuring something before descending the ramp. He glanced at the mechanic, "Anything you want me to pick up?"

"Compression coil?" Mistoffelees attempted, sighing. "No, I think I have everything else of use, you go pick up those supplies. Though, oh, if you happen to find a new hardcopy of a book or something we don't have yet..."

Pounce offered him a grin, "If I have anything left over for anything of that sort I'll grab it, alright?"

"They're cheap!" Mistoffelees said with a grin and waved him off. "Go, I have to hunt up some passengers."

"Good luck," Pouncival responded before heading off to see what supplies he could find.

Grinning after him, Mistoffelees looked around the dusty world, retreating back into the ship to grab a folding chair, setting it up on the gangplank and watching the people walking by.

Cohen made his way along the docks, his green gaze sweeping over each shift as he ignored barker after barker. He was dressed plainly in the simple garb of a minister, a Shepherd. The older man offered a quiet word to one persistent salesman that left the man in confusion. He glanced at the latest ship, a firefly class, but started to continue past it.

Twirling a brightly colored parasol that he had picked up from some fair years ago, Mistoffelees grinned as he watched him walk by. "You're gonna come with us," he declared.

That brought Cohen to a stop as he glanced at the young man, "Excuse me?"

"You're looking at ships," Mistoffelees explained, still twirling the parasol. "You ain't looking at the destination so I assume you want to find a ship you like. And mine's the nicest."

The Shepherd tilted his head back slightly to look over the ship, "Serenity" painted on her hull, "She doesn't look like much."

Mistoffelees laughed, shaking his head. "Doesn't have to. Ever been in a Firefly?"

"Long before you were crawling, lad. Now an aught three, though. Didn't have the extenders, tended to shake." Cohen leaned against his small cart of luggage, casually conversing with the younger man.

"Please," he snorted. "If you're looking at shaking, that ship there will do you," he said, tilting his chin toward the ship the Shepherd had just passed. "Serenity's been under my care enough to sail smooth."

Cohen offered a bit of a smile at that, "No doubt. The aught three still use the trace compression block?"

"Til they make something better," he said with a shrug. He considered the man another long moment, shifting the parasol. "So how come you don't care where you're headed?"

"Because I feel that how you get there is the worthier part."

"You a missionary?" Mistoffelees asked, a slight frown forming between his brows.

"In a way, I suppose. I'm a Shepherd, from the Southdown Abbey. Cohen is what I'm called. I've been out of the world for a spell and would like to walk in it awhile again. Maybe bring the word to them as need it, but only if guided to do so."

"Oh, that's good," he said with a nod, thinking about how much fuss Mac was going to put up as it was. The captain was not afraid of loudly declaiming religion. "I'm Mistoffelees. This here is Serenity, and I swear she's a smooth ride for anyone who can pay." Suddenly he looked really worried. "Um, can you pay?"

That garnered another smile, "I expect we could come to terms. I've got a little cash, and, well..." He withdrew a small wooden box and opened it, showing the contents to Mistoffelees.

Tilting his head at the appearance of the box, Mistoffelees' eyes widened. "Oh. Yeah, that should do it. Welcome to Serenity."

Cohen's smile brightened, "Thank you."

s-s-s-s

Mac and his crew strode into Genghis' office, Mac trying not to make a face at the attempts to look respectable the place presented.

Genghis Selkirk barely glanced up from his desk as they entered, "You're late."

"You're lying," Macavity replied. "You know we've landed two hours earlier than planned. So what's going on here?" He eyed the guards lurking around.

Genghis leaned back in his chair, a thin smile on his lips, "You're later than I'd like."

Mac blinked. "I'm sorry to hear that." Behind him, Jemima and Tugger shifted as well, looking as displeased as Mac was feeling.

Their planetside contact picked up a digital paper, "If you'd gotten here sooner, you might have beaten the bulletin that came up saying a rogue vessel, classification 'Firefly', was spotted pulling illegal salvage on a derelict transport."

Macavity let out a long breath. "No ID. It doesn't lead to you."

"No, but the government stamp on every molecule of that cargo might just," Genghis' blue gaze locked with Mac's.

Mac's mouth twisted and Jemi's eyes snapped to the back of his head. He'd failed to tell the rest of the crew about that fact.

Genghis' lips curled upward, a sharp, mirthless, smile gracing his features, "Oh, you noticed that. I have to wonder if you were just going to hand over imprinted goods and let me twist, or what you were thinking with that?"

"You picked the cargo," Mac replied. "I trusted your ability to deal with the issue."

"That was before you flashed your ass at the gorram law. No deal."

"That ain't fair," Jemi said, taking a step forward.

"Crime and politics, dearie. I'm not aiming at fair, I'm aiming at profit. The situation's always fluid. No deal," Genghis said.

Tugger growled, shoulder tensing. "You little gorram filth, refusing to pay us our wages." Mac shot him a harsh look and he shut up.

Stepping forward, Mac paused as everyone suddenly had a hand on their guns. "You know you can still unload the cargo. So something else is at work here. What's up, Genghis?"

Genghis rose smoothly, waving his men to stand down, "Frankly? I don't like you."

"Hell's that got to do with business?" Mac asked.

"Everything." He looked the other over, "What were you in the war? A Sergeant? Sergeant Macavity Hollister, Balls and Bayonets Brigade. Now six years later you've got yourself a ship, and my goodness, you're a captain! Only, you see, I think you're still a Sergeant at heart. Still a soldier. A man of honor, in a den of thieves."

He circled his desk, coming closer to Mac, tilting his head back to look up at the other, not quite in his space, but close, "Well, it's my den, and I don't like the way you act in it, the way you seem to look down on me more than I care for. I'm above you here. Businessman in the community. You're just a scavenger. You're a bagman. You come and go at my beck and I say you go.  _Get out_."

Mac blinked at that, jaw tensing. "I may not be a fancy gentleman like yourself," he glanced over Genghis' ensemble, which was trying to look respectable. He wore a tie but no collar, an old style hat perched on his head. "With your very fine hat. But I'm here for business. Let's do it."

"Try one of the border planets," came the response, "they're a lot more desperate out there. Of course, they might kill you, but if you stay here I just know the Alliance'll track you down. I have one of those feelings, you know?"

Macavity's lips drew back but he didn't bother saying anything else, just turning and stalking out, Jemi following and Tugger lingering for a moment, willing to fight before following.

"Hey, Mac," Genghis called as he returned to his chair behind the desk.

He whirled. "What?"

"That war of yours, how'd that turn out for you?"

Mac gave him a long look before turning again and this time really storming out. Genghis smirked before turning his attention to other matters.

s-s-s-s

Mistoffelees looked around after Pounce had gotten back. The other three were still out, but beside the shepherd, he'd only managed to find one more passenger. They could hold twelve, so he really needed another.

Coricopat Zimmerman made his careful way through the docking area, a large crate on a dolly with him. He paused at Serenity, looking it over from behind his tinted glasses. It would probably do. Perking visibly at the sight of someone else stopping, Mistoffelees beamed. "Where are you headed?"

He paused, considering, "Boros for now. From there, I'll continue my journey."

"Great," Mistoffelees chirped, taking in his clothes. "You interested in Serenity here then?"

"She looks a capable ship," came the noncommittal response.

Making a couple aborted sounds, as if he really wanted to protest, Mistoffelees finally nodded.

"How much for passage?"

"Well," Mistoffelees bit his lip. "How much can you pay?"

Coricopat glanced down the docks, thinking for a moment as he scoped over the faces of other people and the other ships. He finally stated a price, high, but it should leave him plenty to get a ship in Boros...hopefully.

Mistoffelees blinked and stuttered for a moment before knocking fifty off the price. "We have a shepherd on board too. All respectable like. And she's the best ship you'll find..."

The taller man nodded slightly, "Very good, can you see that the crate is brought on board? And do be careful with it?"

"Sure," he said, finally setting the parasol down. "I'll get Pounce to get it onboard with the Mule. I can't drive it so he's gotta."

Coricopat nodded slightly, "Thank you."

"Sure," he said, beaming and paused. "Erm, what's your name then?"

"Coricopat," he paused slightly, "Zimmerman."

"Great to meet you," Mistoffelees beamed, holding out a hand. "Mistoffelees Quaxo myself."

The other considered Mistoffelees for a moment before shaking his hand, "Charmed."

Giving him an even broader grin, Mistoffelees gathered up the folding chair. "Hey, I can show you the quarters on the way to getting Pounce if you want."

"I..." he shook his head slightly. "Thank you, but no, I'd rather wait until this is loaded."

"Oh, okay," Mistoffelees said and turned to go, glancing back. "And, erm, don't tell the captain I knocked some of your price, would you? He'd get all stompy and glowery and no one needs that, right?"

That earned a faint smile, "I won't. Wouldn't want you in trouble with your captain."

"You'll get a chance to meet him soon, I'm sure, he's not a bad sort, so long as he's not in a stomping mood," Mistoffelees said and ducked down. "Be right back."

Pounce was seated in the cockpit, behind his console, a pair of dinosaur toys in hand, "Everything looks good from here." His voice shifted slightly as he moved the T-Rex in his left hand, "Yes, this is a fertile land, and we will thrive." The stegosaurus in his other hand replied, "We will rule over all this land, and we will call it...This Land.' 'I think we should call it...your grave!" The stegosaurus moved away slightly, "Curse your sudden but inevitable betrayal!' 'Ha ha! Mine is an evil laugh! Now die!" He made them fight, the stegosaurus crying out in agony as it was mercilessly eaten.

Mistoffelees paused in the doorway to the bridge. "Am I interrupting anything?" he asked with a fond smile.

The pilot startled slightly, setting the dinosaurs down, "A tragic betrayal on par with the death of Caesar."

"I'm sure it was quite poetic," Mistoffelees agreed. "So, a passenger needs some help getting stuff on board. You think you can break the mule back out?"

"Me? Why me? I wanted to see how this turned out when the family discovered the brutal murder."

"I'm sure there was lamenting and it turned into a blood feud that went down in the history books," Mistoffelees replied. "But I can't drive the Mule, remember?"

"It's not that hard, you back it out, you load the stuff and you pull it straight back in," Pounce managed, only just, to keep the whine out of his voice. "I don't know why they don't leave Tugger here to drive the damn thing."

"You want to explain to Mac why the thing's crashed?" Mistoffelees asked with an arched brow. "And Tugger had to go look intimidatin'."

"Right, sure, yeah. Alright..." He rose, "So, how many passengers?"

"Two so far," Mistoffelees replied brightly.

"And do we have a vetting process? I mean beyond 'oh hey that one's cute'."

"That wasn't what I was looking at!" Mistoffelees protested. "Only one of them is cute. And he's rich."

"And the other two?"

"One's a shepherd-don't give me that look I'm aware Mac will freak but he had a good payment and seemed a nice sort!-and some other guy. I don't know, he doesn't have much going for him." He paused a beat. "But the cute one's really cute."

Pounce sighed, "So we have no vetting process and we're smuggling goods, probably...possibly...okay, hopefully not. But still!"

"We're putting danger on top of danger?" Mistoffelees grinned. "Aren't my feelings enough of a vetting process for you?"

"I'd trust you with my life, but sorry, no." He sighed, "But we need the money, so I'll go get the mule."

"Thanks," Mistoffelees said with a grin.

Pounce offered him a grin, "You know, this could be solved by just letting me spend the time with you while you find passengers."

"Solve what?" Mistoffelees asked with a blink. "Besides, we don't want them being scared off, remember? They're not supposed to realize we're all kinds of crazy on this boat until it's too late."

"My inherent distrust for the idea of passengers. And I'm not crazy. I'm quirky."

"I'm quirky," Mistoffelees returned. "You're what ever's beyond that. At least we're not letting Tugger near them yet..."

"Tugger would shoot them rather than entice them. And I take personal offense at the fact that I am beyond quirky."

"You had a blood feud going between toy dinosaurs," Mistoffelees said. "Maybe you're just, I don't know, quirky modified? Like, especially quirky or particularly quirky?"

"We'll go with particularly quirky. But I'm not crazy. The toy dinosaurs needed to be played with. And you can be incredibly cruel in your quirky hierarchy."

"Me?" Mistoffelees protested again as they reached the cargo hold, a hand over his heart. "Me, cruel?"

"Yes, you," Pounce suppressed a smile. "Slave driver, making me drive the mule, and then calling me more than quirky." He made his way over to the mule, an old yellow vehicle designed for heavy towing.

Mistoffelees glanced to where Coricopat was still standing, offering him a grin. "I am no such thing. I do however have to run out and grab a couple things before the captain comes back." He paused, leaning toward the other. "Oh! Did you happen to find any books?"

"I don't know if I should tell you..." Pounce grinned slightly, "Yeah, I picked up a couple."

Grinning, Mistoffelees leaned back and clapped. "Excellent. I'll be back in just a few minutes," he said, scampering to the gangplank. "Oh, Pounce, this is Coricopat! He's the one whose stuff you're moving."

Pouncival eyed the taller man, not liking the looks of him one bit, "Great, what am I moving exactly?" Coricopat indicated the crate and a trunk. Pouncvial smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes, "Fantastic. Hurry back, Misto."

"As quickly as I can," he said, eying Pounce's reactions before swaying down the gangplank with a jaunty wave.

Coricopat watched Mistoffelees leave, having to step abruptly out of the way as Pounce cut it a bit close with the mule, not caring for how he was looking at Misto, or how he might be looking at Mistoffelees. The dark glasses made it hard to see.

s-s-s-s

"I can't believe we just ran away," Tugger was complaining as they weaved their way from Genghis' toward the ship.

"We didn't run away," Mac replied, striding through the crowds, which obligingly parted for him.

"And you call this...?" Tugger started and was cut off from an abrupt hand motion from Jemi.

"Do you think he'd sell us to the feds?" she asked.

"No, he's just a bag of air," Mac said.

"What about Boros?" Jemi offered. "Could unload the goods there."

"Way too big," Mac dismissed it. "Crawling with feds, that might be warned we're coming."

"I thought you said he wouldn't sell us out," Tugger muttered under his breath.

"No, but they're on the lookout for Firefly ships. We run a Firefly. It's askin' for all sorts of trouble we don't need."

"We could dump the cargo," Jemi offered.

"No ruttin' way!" Tugger yelped.

"Your mouth is moving, see to that," Mac snapped at him. "But we need the money. We dump the cargo, we can't fuel and we're dead in the water."

"Are we running to the border planets then?" Jemi asked.

"Whitefall, we can talk to Patience-" Mac started and Jemi intercut him.

"Sir, we don't want to deal with her again."

"Why not?" Mac asked, stopping enough to turn and look at her.

"She  _shot_  you, sir."

"Well, a bit, but, still-" Mac protested.

"We find someone else," Jemi held her ground against her scowling captain, Tugger taking a wise step backward.

"Like who?" Mac demanded, running down the list of their contacts, who were either broke, dead, or in too much trouble to take on questionable goods taken from a wreck. "Now, it's been a long time since that woman shot me, and she's currently the safest bet. We were having a perfectly legitimate conflict of interest, and now we don't. She can afford what we got, and she probably needs it."

"Still don't like it, sir."

"That's why I'm the captain," he said, turning and striding the last several feet back toward his ship.

Pounce drove the mule on past them, rolling his eyes as Coricopat spoke, "Please be careful with that."

"I thought I'd drop it off the gangplank..." the pilot muttered.

Mac blinked at that. "What's all this then?"

"Passengers," Mistoffelees said, coming up behind him. "Ready and accounted for. Here, I even picked up another one," he said, motioning to the somewhat plain man behind him, who was carrying two bags.

The man shifted one of his bags to under his other arm, extending the hand to shake, "Name's Plato, Captain."

"Great to meet you I'm sure," he said, shaking the offered hand, distracted already. "Any other passengers?"

"Two, capt," Mistoffelees replied, stepping between Macavity and Coricopat. "This is Coricopat, and this is Captain Macavity."

Taking one look at the glasses the other was wearing, Macavity arched a brow. "Just as charmed," he drawled, slinging an arm around Mistoffelees as Tugger and Jemi went to make sure things were stowed down for landing. "Anymore?"

"One more, I think he's already tucked away though," the smaller chirped.

Coricopat's gaze flickered over the captain, his eyes hidden behind the shaded glasses he wore. He nodded slightly to Macavity before slipping into the hold to make certain Pouncival had taken care of his crate.

Macavity led Mistoffelees back inside. "Hey, anyone hear from the ambassador?"

"I think she just checked in," Jemi said, leaning over the railing of the walkway that spanned the cargo hold.

"Full house then?" Macavity called up and his second confirmed. "Lock it up then and get that husband of yours flyin' this boat."

Once the hold was closed and the ship was locked up, Pouncival guided her out of the docking station and from there out of atmo.

Tugger was muttering something as he made sure the passenger's belongings were stored. "What we gotta take on civilians for anyway?" he growled.

"I like meeting new people, hearing new stories," Mistoffelees said, leaning against the railing for the wire stairs.

"Captain!" Tugger complained. "Can you get him to be less cheerful like?"

"I don't think there's a power in the verse that can do that," Mac replied, going over a list and flipping the page. "Though, sometimes, I gotta admit, I just want to ducktape his mouth and lock him in the hold..."

Coricopat's brow rose where he was part way up a staircase, staying out of the crew's way, but keeping a careful eye on Tugger.

Mistoffelees pushed off and leaned up to kiss Macavity's cheek. "I love my captain," he said, drawing back with a grin.

Their passenger beat a hasty retreat at that.

Macavity glanced up, blinking. "So, we gonna to give the passengers the tour?"

"Can I?" Mistoffelees chirped.

"You can come," Macavity admitted. "Alright, let's gather them up in the kitchen. Tugger, keep working."

"Aye, aye," Tugger said, rolling his eyes.

A handful of minutes later found crew and passengers assembled in the dining area, attention on Macavity.

"Meals taken here," Macavity was explaining, standing at the table with his hands on the back of a wooden chair. Mistoffelees was standing to one side, nearer the kitchen. "Kitchen's pretty self explanatory, standard fare which means protein in all the colors of the rainbow. We have sit down meals, next one being about eighteen hundred."

Cohen glanced around the table, "If any help is needed with preparation of that meal I am more than willing to assist..."

"That-" Macavity paused, giving the shepherd a long look.

"I'm usually the one that cooks," Mistoffelees said. "And thank you for that. Oh, and the herbs and stuff of course."

"You're a shepherd?" Mac demanded, turning his full glare on Mistoffelees.

Cohen nodded slightly, "Is that a problem?"

"Course not," Mistoffelees said, "Cause it's not." He stepped on Macavity's foot.

"Course not," Mac said. "So yes, you're welcome in this area any time but you are otherwise confined to your quarters. If you need to go to the cargo hold at any point, ask a crew member to escort you."

Coricopat cut in at that point, "Some of my personal effects are in the cargo hold."

"Yeah, so are a lot of the passengers," Mac said. "So, you ask a crewmember, they get you want you need. It's not like it's a big boat, plenty of us to find around." He paused, glancing at Mistoffelees and cleared his throat. "One more thing. We've been asked to do a run to Whitefall, drop off some medical supplies for the Alliance."

That earned a long look from Coricopat, "What medical supplies?"

"Didn't ask," Mac said, giving him a long look.

"Just usual things, they need them out there on the border," Mistoffelees replied.

"Alliance says jump," Mac started.

"Right. Of course," the passenger fell silent at that.

"Wanna run them to the cargo bay in case they want anything?" Mac said, glancing at Mistoffelees. "I think Jem should be in there."

"Sure, Capt."

It was a clear enough dismissal. Those that had been seated rose and started for the door toward the cargo bay. Pounce hung back to check in with the Captain.

Mac glanced at his pilot. "Hear anything from Patience yet?"

"Not yet." Pounce arched an eyebrow, "Didn't she shoot you that one time?"

"Everybody's makin' a fuss," Mac muttered.


	2. And Your Not Gonna Let Him

Back in the cargo hold, Mistoffelees was standing on the walkway above the hold, watching Coricopat checking his box with a half dreamy expression on his face.

Coricopat was checking a panel in the side of the box before locating his bag. Cohen meantime, made his way up past Mistoffelees, pausing to offer the younger man a small wooden box.

A few moments later the hatch to one of the shuttles opened and Griddlebone stepped out, her dress simple but very elegant accenting her appearance just right. "And you grace us with your presence," Mac said, stepping up behind Mistoffelees who was grinning quite happily at the wooden box, though he soon enough turned the grin up to Griddlebone.

She offered a cordial smile to the captain, "Hello, Mac. I see some new faces this time around."

"Hey you," Mistoffelees said, stepping forward.

"Hey yourself," she leaned down to kiss his cheek. He kissed her other cheek, leaving his arm lightly around her waist.

Cohen cleared his throat very slightly, feeling as though he was intruding but finding the trio between himself and the most direct route to his quarters.

"Ah, ambassador, meet Shepherd Cohen," Mac said.

Griddlebone's brows rose at that, "I have to say this is the first time we've had a preacher on board Serenity."

Cohen blinked at her for a moment before taking the hand she offered him and bowing slightly, "I was hardly expecting to see a state official either. Ambassador."

Mac cracked up at that moment.

Griddlebone shot him a dark look as she withdrew her hand from Cohen's. The Shepherd looked confused, "I appear to be missing something funny?"

"She's a whore," Mac replied, finding a certain malice in that moment.

"The term is companion," Mistoffelees snapped in reply.

The Companion carefully cleared her expression and hid her opinion of Mac, and of Cohen's momentary look of judgment, as best she could.

"Yeah, I always get mixed up. How's business?" Mac breezed right past his glowering mechanic.

"None of yours," Grids answered icily.

"She's our companion for respectability," Mac continued, turning to Cohen. "Some planets don't let you dock without a companion onboard, certified and everything." He smirked. "That's not going to be a problem is it?"

"Well, I..." Cohen started, trying to find the way to state his opinion while not stepping a foot wrong either with his beliefs or with those present.

Griddlebone shook her head, "It's alright. I mostly keep to myself." She glared at Mac as she turned to retreat to her shuttle, "When I'm not whoring."

"Don't you want to meet the others?" he called after her sweetly.

"Why don't you make sure they want to meet  _me_  first?" she tossed over her shoulder.

Mistoffelees followed her, hooking his arms through her. "So, have anyone fall madly in love with you and want to take you away from all of this?"

She offered him a smile at that, "Just one this time. I think I'm slipping..."

"I'm sure you're not," he said, glancing back at Coricopat one more time.

Grids spotted that look and arched a brow, "Something you want to mention?"

"No?" he offered with a grin.

"Well," she laughed quietly, "when there is you know where to find me."

"Course I do. You're shuttle flies off but your home's here," he said, leaning against her slightly.

She unhooked their arms so she could loop hers around him, "Exactly. Where else would I find a family like this?"

o.o.o.o

Jemima strolled in as Mistoffelees and Cohen were finishing dinner. "This looks amazing," she remarked.

Cohen offered her a slight smile, "It's not much. I had a garden at the Abbey, and thought I should bring what I could."

"It's still amazing," Jemi said, dishing up a plate for herself, and working on one for her husband too.

"It's kind of you to share it with all of us," Coricopat spoke from the doorway, where he had heard the exchange.

"Well, it won't last," Cohen remarked. "They are never the same when they're frozen. Spices are the important part. You can live on packaged food til Judgment Day if you have enough herbs."

Tugger strolled in, plopping himself down as Mistoffelees put the last dish on the table. The rest of the crew and passengers, sans Pounce and Griddlebone, arrived shortly after, settling around the table. Cohen glanced down the table at Macavity, "Captain, do you mind if I say grace?"

"Only if you do it out loud," Mac returned.

The Shepherd paused for a long moment, before finally nodding and simply bowing his head to offer a silent prayer. Tugger ducked his head down as well, Mistoffelees glancing between Macavity and Cohen before bowing his head in respect.

Once Cohen had finished, Coricopat spoke, "So, does it happen a lot? The Government commandeering your ship, telling you where to go?"

"What the government's for," Mac said after staring at him a long moment, a tomato slice held in his chopsticks. "To get in a man's way."

"Well, it's good, if the supplies are needed," Plato offered from where he was seated next to Tugger.

"Always happy to be doing the good work," Tugger replied, giving the passenger a long look.

"I hear a lot of the border moons are in bad shape. Plagues, and famine..." Plato offered, his focus partially on his meal.

"Some of it's exaggerated and some of it ain't," Jemi said with a shrug. "They're all terraformed, close to earth that was as they can be but..."

"Once the atmo's up and the ocean's down, the settlers are dumped with blankets and hatchets, if they're lucky a herd. Some of them make it, some don't," Mac intercut, bitter sounding enough.

"Then I guess it's good we're helping," Coricopat spoke.

"You're a doctor, yeah?" Mistoffelees said, turning to him with a smile.

"What? Oh, yes. I was a trauma surgeon on Osiris. In Capital City," he murmured, dropping his gaze back to his plate.

"Long way from here," Mac remarked but Mistoffelees just kept beaming.

"You're young to be a doctor, ain't you?"

Coricopat looked up again, offering the mechanic a ghost of a smile, "You're pretty young to be a ship's mechanic, too."

"Oh, no," he said, but started blushing, looking back at his food. "Machines just have workings and they talk to me. It's simple enough."

"That's a rare gift," Cohen remarked quietly.

"Nothing, nothing like, like being a doctor and saving and helping people," Mistoffelees protested. "I mean, that's important."

"You keep this ship in the air, I'd say that's pretty important," the Shepherd returned.

"Oh, I'm," he started, still blushing.

"Bets he just wishes the doctor was the one that had to do physical exams. The full on body kind," Tugger said, chuckling at Mistoffelees' expression, which turned somewhat mortified.

Coricopat nearly choked on the bite of tomato he'd been in the process of swallowing, his grey eyes widened and he tried to form words, though to what effect he wasn't certain.

"Tugger," Mac's voice snapped out. "Shut up."

"You're not paying me to-" Tugger started.

"Your mouth. Either see to it or leave," Macavity returned as Mistoffelees' shoulders hunched slightly. Glaring around the table, Tugger grabbed a couple more fresh vegetables and stalked back to his own quarters.

There was a long moment of silence before Coricopat spoke again, "What  _do_  you pay him for?"

Macavity paused. "Public relations," he replied with a completely straight face.

That earned a skeptical look, but the doctor returned to his meal. Glancing down, Mistoffelees tried to focus only on eating himself.

o.o.o.o

Griddlebone was kneeling in her shuttle, undressed to her waist and carefully giving herself a sponge bath. She would worry about getting dinner later, and if she didn't Misto was sure to bring her something if only to say hi. A knock came at the door and she called for them to enter without looking up, though once they were in she could see from the corner of her eye that it was Shepherd Cohen. Rather than reclothe herself she finished, in no apparent hurry.

"Oh, terribly sorry. If I'm intruding…"

She shook her head, finally carefully pulling her robe up over her shoulders, "Not at all. I expected someone. Here to lecture me about the wickedness of my ways?"

Cohen held a tray out to her, "I brought some supper, but if you'd prefer a lecture, I've a few very catchy ones prepped. Sin and hellfire... one has lepers."

That earned what might have been an amused smile as she took the food, "I think I'll pass on the lecture. Thank you for the food."

"The Captain said you might like it. I was surprised at his concern."

"For a lowly whore?"

"It was unjust of him to say that."

The companion shook her head, "Believe me, I've called him worse. Anyway, I suspect he has more interest in making you uncomfortable than me."

"He's not wildly interested in ingratiating himself with anyone, yet he seems very protective of his crew." Cohen paused, shaking his head, "It's odd."

"Why are you so fascinated by him?"

"Because he's something of a mystery." Another pause as he considered her, "Why are you?"

Griddlebone smiled faintly, "Because of all the men I've met, he's one of the few that  _is_  a mystery." She paused for a long moment, "Why did you choose to bring my dinner? Misto I would have understood..."

"Honestly? I wished to apologize for earlier. It is a pleasure to meet you. I should leave you to your dinner now. Good evening, Miss."

She offered him another smile and a nod, "Good evening, Shepherd." Watching him leave, she settled down on some cushions and turned her attention to her meal.

o.o.o.o

Mac stalked up to the bridge. "Pounce! The hell are you yellin' on about?"

The pilot looked up at him from where he'd been studying one of the screens, "A signal went out. Somebody went on the Cortex, hailed the nearest Alliance Cruiser..."

"Tell me you scrambled it," Mac demanded.

"Of course I scrambled it. But I don't know how much went through in the process of doing so. Alliance got a pin on us for sure."

Swearing something harsh under his breath, Mac turned around. "Means we got a mole on board, don't it?"

Pounce nodded, "You want me to come with?"

"If the ships set for you leavin'," Mac said, already on the way down the stairs out of the bridge. The other man turned back to make sure Serenity could run fine in his absence.

Making his way down to the cargo bay, Mac paused a long moment at spotting Coricopat checking his luggage. "You forget somethin'?"

The young doctor startled, turning to face the captain, "What?"

Instead of answering, Macavity slugged him across the fact as soon as he could reach. The punch sent the lighter man sprawling, his hand flying to massage his chin, "Are you out of your mind?"

"Just about," Mac returned, rage in his face. "Hell you tell them?"

Rising warily, and making sure there was space between them, Coricopat eyed the captain, "Tell who?"

"No time for games. How much do they know?"

"How much do  _who_  know?"

"The feds, you damn mole," Mac snarled.

Coricopat's eyes widened and he blinked, "Mole? You're out of your gorram mind."

"Really now?" Mac demanded.

Cohen, coming out of Griddlebone's shuttle, heard the later part of the exchange and spoke from where he had a good view of the hold, "I hate to say it, Captain, but you've got the wrong man."

"Come again, preacher?" Mac's head whipped around to stare up at him.

He nodded off to one side of where Mac and Coricopat were standing to where Plato held a gun, pointed at the two of them. Plato's grip on the gun was solid, but he seemed a might jumpy, "Hands away from your weapon, Captain."

"Son of a bitch," Mac swore, taking a step back and holding his hands up.

Plato immediately trained the gun on the doctor, "Coricopat Zimmerman, you are bound by law to stand down."

"What?" Mac blinked. "Oh, the doctor," he took a step aside. "There, is there a reward then?"

Plato ignored him, his grip on the weapon tightening as he snapped at Coricopat, "Get on the ground!"

The brunet hesitated, "You are making a mistake."

"Might want to do as he says, he looks a mite twitchy," Mac said, having turned into a chameleon for the situation.

"I think everybody could stand to calm down a bit," Cohen spoke from where he had made his way down to the main level of the hold and was slowly moving over toward Plato.

"This isn't your business, Shepherd," the policeman glanced at him.

"As I understand it, it's pretty cold outside. The boy's not going anywhere," the preacher spoke slowly.

Hand starting to drop down back toward his gun, Mac smiled at the lawman. "No worries, we put him in a passenger cell and he don't move until whenever we land and you need to hand him over."

Plato trained his gun on the captain again, "Stay the  _hell_  away from that weapon. You're carrying a fugitive across interplanetary borders, and you think I actually believe you're bringing medical supplies to Whitefall? As far as I care, everyone on this ship is culpable."

"Well, now, that rather affects the landscape," Mac said, offended. "We didn't know who he was when he walked on?"

"Please," Cohen tried, still edging toward Plato, "We're very close to true stupidity here."

Plato tensed even more, "I got a cruiser en route for intercept, so talk all you want. You got about twenty minutes."

"Might have less than that," Mac said slowly.

"Oh, yeah, threaten me. That's smart..."

"For God's sake..." Cohen started.

"You think I wouldn't shoot a Shepherd? Back off!" Plato snapped.

Reaching out, Mac grabbed Coricopat. "Look, just take the kid and leave it alone, alright?"

Coricopat struggled to twist out of his grip, "Get your hands off of me!"

"Stand the hell down," Plato growled.

The shepherd spoke frantically, "Everybody stop, just stop this!"

Wiping his hands off with a cloth, Mistoffelees approached the cargo hold from where he had been hearing shouts from the engine room. "What's going on?"

Plato whirled and pulled the trigger without really seeing who or what he was firing at.

Hand going to his stomach, Mistoffelees blinked at the red spreading over the brightly patterned shirt. "What...?" he started, blinking at the blood spreading over his hand before collapsing in the doorway.

Coricopat yanked away from Macavity, darting to Mistoffelees' side to see what he could do.

Tugger appeared at the walkway, his gun trained on Plato as Mac dived for his own weapon, pointing it toward the fed spy as well.

Plato whirled to aim his gun at Mac again, but before he could complete the motion, Cohen stepped in. A quick jab to the throat startled and momentarily left Plato gasping for breath. It gave the Shepherd enough time to grab the gun, twist it out of the fed's hand and crack the younger man across the face with the butt of the pistol in a smooth motion. The fed collapsed, unconscious in seconds of having planned to shoot he captain.

Griddlebone, having exited her shuttle at the sound of gunfire hurried down the stairs, her attention on the injured mechanic already, "Misto!"

Mac made his way quickly to his downed mechanic, who was looking around in surprise, as if still trying to figure out why he was looking at the ceiling.

Coricopat was putting pressure on the wound, accepting the silken scarf that Griddlebone handed him. He glanced at the mechanic's face, "How are you feeling?"

"Odd," Mistoffelees murmured, trying to focus on him. "Everyone's fussin' over me..."

Griddlebone offered him a worried smile, brushing his hair back as she bunched up her outer robe under his head, "Well that's our jobs."

Coricopat carefully opened the other man's shirt, the wound was deep, and he could already tell it ahd done more damage than could be easily repaired.

Tugger meanwhile stalked down the stairs, advancing on the downed fed, fully intending to do all sorts of bodily harm.

Cohen stepped in his way, standing between him and the lawman.

"Let me pass," Tugger growled. "He's gotta pay..."

"You're not killing this man."

"Not right away," Tugger agreed, Jemi stepping between them.

"Tie him up," she demanded, giving Tugger a long look. "Do it."

Scowling at her, Tugger moved over to find tape and rope to do just that, but glancing over in worry at the group clustered around the doorway.

Coricopat glanced up at Mistoffelees' face again, "Can you move your feet? Mistoffelees. Stay with us. Can you move your feet?"

"Are you asking me to dance?" he murmured, clearly not paying attention. Mac glanced at the doctor from where he was holding one of Mistoffelees' hands.

"He's going into shock..." The doctor murmured, looking to the captain, "Is the infirmary working?"

"Course, we always got it stocked," Mac growled, as if offended by the suggestion they didn't.

The comm crackled to life, Pounce's voice coming over it, "Captain, we've been hailed by a Cruiser. Ordered to stay on course and dock for prisoner transfer."

Coricopat's eyes widened and he pulled back from Mistoffelees, not quite standing yet but looking ready to, "Change course. Run."

Excuse me?" Mac demanded. "Hell with you. You brought this upon us, I fully intend to dump you with the law."

"Mac..." Grids murmured, her hand still smoothing over Mistoffelees' hair.

The doctor stood up and took a step back, "He's dying."

"I noticed! And you're not gonna let him."

"Yes. I am. Change course."

"You can't," Mac growled. rising and stepping forward again.

"The feds won't let us walk," Jemi said, stepping forward, eying the doctor with undisguised dislike.

"Then we dump him in the shuttle and leave him there for them to fetch in their own good time!" Mac yelled.

"Everyone's so mad..." Mistoffelees said softly, frowning and whimpering slightly when his next breath brought the pain back into focus.

Griddlebone turned her attention back to Mistofelees from where she'd been glaring at Coricopat, "Shh, it's gonna be okay, Misto."

Coricopat didn't back down, "Do you know what a stomach wound does to a person?"

"Yes," Mac growled, murder in his voice.

"Then you know how important the next few minutes are."

"You let him die, you'll never make it to the feds," Jemi told him, voice as low and dangerous as Mac's, the captain too furious to speak.

"He'll still be dead," the doctor answered coldly.

"You rich kids," Mac hissed. "You think your lives are the only thing that matters. What the hell you do anyway? Kill your folks for the fortune?"

"I don't kill people!" Coricopat snapped in response.

"Then do your job!" Mac thundered.

"Turn the ship around!" The doctor snarled, though there was something desperate seeping in to his voice.

Griddlebone could hear the panic in her own voice as she cut in, "Mac, enough! Just do it!"

"Don't you ever tell me what to do on my boat-" he started and Mistoffelees screamed. Freezing, Mac kept his eyes on Coricopat's face. "Jems, tell your husband we're running."

Looking between them, Jemi ran over and hit the panel. "Hard burn, Pounce. We're running."

Coricopat moved swiftly, once that had been decided, to Mistoffelees' side, "Help me get him to the infirmary."

Mac leaned down, trying to lift the mechanic as carefully as possible, though it still got a scream from Mistoffelees. With Coricopat and Griddlebone's help, they got him into the infirmary, setting him down on the bed in the middle of the room.

Coricopat looked around, "Do you have an extractor?"

"Laser saw," Mac returned curtly, cradling Mistoffelees' head as he whimpered again.

"Not good enough," came the crisp response. He looked at Griddlebone, "My room. Red bag." She nodded and moved swiftly out of the infirmary to the quarters the passengers had been given.

"When this is done, we're having a talk," Mac promised him from where he was standing near the prone mechanic.

"Won't that be fun," the doctor muttered from where he was rifling through the drawers. He finally located what he was looking for and tossed Mac the capped hypo he'd been seeking, "Dope him."

Mac did, using his field experience to help the doctor out. They were in the infirmary a long time, working together for the moment. At one point, Tugger crouched outside the window, nearly hugging himself as he watched.

Coricopat finally stepped back after what felt like an eternity. He moved over to a sink and washed his hands, "I can't do anything more until he stabilizes."

"And will he?" Mac asked, glancing down at distaste at the state of his own hands.

"I can't say yet."

"I want to know what's going on," Griddlebone spoke from where she'd been helping as much as she could.

"I'd love to find out," Mac declared, turning and heading for the cargo hold.

The doctor frowned after him, "What are you..." His grey eyes widened as he realized and he bolted after the captain, "No! No, don't!" He reached the hold, heading for Mac, "Stay away from that!"

Tugger, who had been brooding on the weight bench and sharpening a knife, rose as they entered, grabbing Coricopat from behind.

"Where's the fed?" Mac asked Tugger, still heading for the crate the rich kid had brought aboard.

"Secure, the preacher's with him. Seems to think he's not safe alone with me," Tugger responded.

Coricopat struggled, trying to twist away from the larger man, "Don't! You don't understand!"

Griddlebone entered quietly and Pounce appeared at the railing up above. Jemi followed her husband, arching a brow at the scene before her.

"Might as well see what a man like you would kill for," Mac replied, pulling the release lever for the box after he figured out how it worked.

"No, don't!" He grimaced at the strain he was putting on his shoulders, still trying to get away from Tugger and stop the captain.

Kicking off the cover, Mac stepped back as lights flashed on, and smoke rolled out of the box. Once it cleared, he leaned forward, blinking when he saw a naked teenage girl inside, curled up in what could have been sleep. "Huh," he said, looking between the girl and Coricopat.

The doctor continued trying to wrest free, "I need to check her vitals."

Tugger didn't release him, and Mac scoffed. "That's what they're callin' it now?"

"She's not supposed to wake up for another week! The shock-"

"Shock of what? Possibly waking up and findin' out she's been sold to some border world baron? Or, I'm sorry, was this one for you?" Mac paused to point to the sleeping girl. "Is it true love. Because you do seem a little-"

He was interrupted as she sat up rather abruptly inside the box, screaming. Jumping out of his skin, he turned wide eyes back to her as she just keeps screaming, crawling out of the box finally and slamming her back against the side, looking around frantically.

In shock, Tugger dropped his hold on Coricopat.

The doctor took the opportunity to dart over tot he girl, crouching down in front of her, reaching out and putting a hand on her arm, "Tant?"

Griddlebone took a couple steps forward, pulling off the robe she'd used earlier to cushion Misto's head. It would offer the young girl some decency...if any of them could get near her.

For a moment the girl just continued looking around, eyes wide and unseeing before focusing finally on Coricopat. "Cori...?"

He brushed her hair away from her face, "It's alright. You're safe now, Tant."

"But, but," she started, still panicking and voice catching, barely on the border of tears. "They, they talk to me, they want me to talk and..."

"Shh. They're gone. We're safe. I'm here, Tant. We're safe," he gently tugged on her arm, drawing her into an embrace as much as he could. Sobbing, she leaned into his shoulder, clinging.

After a moment of silence, only the cries filling the cargo hold, Macavity broke it. "The hell is this?"

Coricopat looked up at him, his expression stony except for something dangerous in his eyes, "This is my sister."

"Huh?" Mac repeated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to chapter two everyone, in which, yay, Tantomile! Let's just say this is a very interesting role to have her in, and it's a lot of fun to explore.


	3. Just Him and Me

Having finally managed to get his sister looked over and asleep after trouble followed by trouble, Coricopat stood before the crew in the dining room. His hands rested on the back of a chair to steady himself, "I am very smart. I went to the best Medacad in Osiris, top three percent of my class, finished my internship in eight months. "Gifted" is the term. So when I tell you that my little sister makes me look like an idiot child, I want you to understand my full meaning.

"Tantomile was more than gifted. She...she was a  _gift_ ," the doctor continued. "Everything she did, music, math, theoretical physics - even dance - there was nothing that didn't come as naturally to her as breathing does to us." He smiled faintly, remembering the girl who was now a shadow of that, "She could be a real... brat about it, too. I mean, she used to -" He realized he was off topic at motion from a couple members of the crew.

"There was a... a school... a... government-sponsored academy, we had never even heard of it but it had the most exciting program, the most challenging. We could have sent her anywhere, we had the money, but she wanted to go. She wanted to learn. She was fourteen." he paused, dropping his gaze to his hands, "I..."

"I got a few letters at first, and then I didn't hear for months. Finally I got a letter that made no sense. She-she talked about things that never happened, jokes we never... it was code. It just said..." He drew a deep breath, remembering the fear that had gone through him at that letter, the frustration when his parents thought he was out of his mind, "'They're hurting us. Get me out.'"

"How'd you do it?" Jemi asked, the first to break the silence. Mac was sitting at the dining room table, his arms crossed over his chest and listening while looking rather angry still.

" Money. And, and luck. For two years, I couldn't get near her. Then I was contacted by some men, some underground movement. They-they said she was in danger, that-that the government was... playing with her brain. If I funded them they could sneak her out in cryo. Get her to Persephone, and from there, I could take her... wherever."

Griddlebone paused for a long moment, "Will she be all right?"

"I..I don't know if she'll be all right. I don't know what they did to her, or why. I-I just have to keep her safe."

Cohen spoke from where he'd been focusing his gaze on the tabletop, taking the story in, "That's...quite a story, son."

"Tale of woe," Mac growled. "Very stirring, moving, I'm sure they'll make it into a fine vid one of these days. In the meantime, you've heaped a world of trouble on me and mine."

Coricopat looked at that captain, "I...never thought-"

"No, I don't suppose you did," he snapped. "But now we have a kidnapped federal officer on board, Alliance hard on our tails, and Misto..." he stopped, swallowing hard and unable to actually say it.

Jemi glanced at her captain and then to Pounce. "How much does the Alliance know?"

Her husband shook his head, "I can't say. I killed the message pretty quick...they might have just had our position."

"Or personal profiles on all of us," Mac snapped. "We won't know til the bastard wakes up."

"So what're we gonna do?" Tugger asked, looking at the captain.

There was a long pause, and Mac spared a moment to glance at Griddlebone. "We finish the job. Got word that Patience is waitin' for us. We circle 'roud the moon, make the deal and get out. Keep flyin'."

"What about us?" Coricopat asked softly.

There was a long pause. "If Misto pulls through, you and your sister get off at Whitefall."

"And if he doesn't...?" The doctor almost didn't want to know.

"Then you get off a mite sooner."

"That would be murder," Cohen protested.

"Boy made a choice," Mac replied, spine tensing as his orders were questioned.

"He didn't shoot Misto," Griddlebone murmured.

"No, but someone here did and I'm still confused as to why we ain't dealt with him yet," Tugger snapped.

"Kill a fed?" Jemi demanded. "Could you possibly do anything stupider?"

"He can ID us," Tugger protested.

Coricopat cut in, grey eyes focused on Macavity, "You wanna throw me out the airlock, fine, but Tant's not a part of this..."

Pounce glanced around, a frown settling on his features, "Can we maybe vote on the whole murdering people issue?"

"There's no voting on my ship 'cause it ain't the rutting town hall!" Mac snarled in reply.

"Mac, this is insanity," Grids started.

Pounce's eyes narrowed, "I think we're a ways beyond that now,  _sir_." He turned to his wife, "We're gonna talk this through, yeah?" His wife didn't respond.

The pilot's gaze darkened at that. Cohen spoke, "I'll not stand by while there's killing here."

"What's the preacher gonna do?" Tugger asked with a smirk, clearly not caring much.

"Everybody shut the hell up!" Mac thundered. "Way it is is the way it is. We deal with what we have in front of us, dogma?"

Griddlebone spoke softly again, "Mac, you know they wouldn't survive a day in Whitefall. You throw them out, I'm leaving too."

There was a long moment as the captain just stared at her, unsure whether to be more annoyed at her confronting him in front of the crew or the thought of her leaving. "Might be best if you do."

The companion looked momentarily shocked at that before she nodded slightly, "Very well then." Staring at her a moment longer, Mac turned on his heel and stormed out.

Coricopat followed him, "What is it exactly that you do with this ship?"

"Excuse me?" Mac asked, turning in the small hallway from the kitchen to the cargo hold.

"What is it you run with this thing? You've made it clear I'm a dead man whether your mechanic lives or dies so what's the harm? Gold? Drugs? Treasure? What makes you so afraid of the Alliance?"

"Who says I'm afraid? I don't like the bastards, ain't that enough?"

"Really? You'd sell me out for a pat on the head. Hell, you fit the profile enough, you should try working for them," Coricopat glared at the larger man.

That got him punched across the face, Mac glowering down at him. "Don't you dare, boy," Mac snarled, turning and stalking away again.

"Saw that coming," Tugger smirked from where he'd been watching the scene from the kitchen table.

Coricopat massaged his jaw as he watched the captain leave. He drew his gaze away as Cohen approached, "He's out of his mind."

Shaking his head, the shepherd spoke, "You might want to do some historical study before you speak again around here, lad. Haven't you wondered about the name of the ship?"

That got a long look, but the doctor finally sighed, shook his head and retreated to check on his sister and Mistoffelees. He'd look into 'Serenity' after that was done.

o.o.o.o

Coricopat finally returned to his berth and set his universal encyclopedia to history, instructing it to define Serenity, "Read." As it began speaking, a mechanical but feminine voice filling the room he rose and started getting ready for sleep.

"In the war to unite the planets, the battle of Serenity was among the most devastating and decisive. Located on Hera, the valley was considered a key position by both sides and was bitterly fought over. The independent faction with sixteen brigades and twenty air-tank squads held the valley against the Alliance forces for almost two months, until superior numbers-"

"What does it say in there under bloodbath?" Jemi asked, poking her head inside the room, arms braced on the door frame.

Coricopat startled, turning to face her. He glanced toward the encyclopedia, "Stop." In the silence that followed he tried a couple of times to find an excuse and finally settled for, "I was...trying to understand."

"We ain't in there," Jemima said, giving him an odd look. For the moment she looked every bit the warrior, hair pulled back and leather vest looking like it could be armor. "Those of us that fought and died on that battle field are just statistics. We didn't turn the tide of glorious history or whatever it's supposed to say in there."

The doctor glanced toward the reader again, "Well, you know what they say about history...It's programmed by the winners." His voice was quiet, no disrespect intended.

She didn't look entirely impressed. "Over half a million people lay dead on that field battle's end, more than a third of them your winners."

"Mac...was there with you?"

"He was my commander," she said, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Had thirty odd grunts under him at the start. Five days in there were so many officer's dead he commanded two thousand troops. Kept us together, kept us fightin', kept us sane. By the time the fighting was over he had maybe four hundred intact. Can you imagine those numbers? How many lay dead around you, while you piled up corpses, your friends, as a wall because you had no cover?"

"That..." He leaned against the sink trying to absorb it all, "Hell..."

"I said there were four hundred at the end of the battle," she said. "They left us there. Wounded and sick and both sides left us there while they talked the peace out. For a week. And we kept dyin'. When they finally sent in med ships we had maybe a hundred and fifty left. Of our original platoon... just him and me. Mercy, forgiveness, trust, he left them there. What he has now is the ship and them on it."

The young man sank down on his bunk, nodding, "I...well, am beginning to understand a small bit. Or I hope I am..."

She gave him a long look. "Good. Came here for another reason anyway. Wanted to ask how your sister was doing, and how Misto's lookin'."

"Tant's still asleep, last I checked. And Mistoffelees has stabilized, though just barely."

"But he's stable?" she pressed. "And lookin' to stay so?"

Coricopat nodded, "I was going to head back up there and check, I still can't say with any certainty what his recovery will look like until the morning. But he's stabilized."

She nodded. "Make sure he stays that way. I don't think the Capt was anywhere kiddin' about kicking you off the boat early if he doesn't."

"I'm sure he wasn't." He paused for a long moment, "I wouldn't have let him die. I just..."

"Worried about your sister?" she replied. "Though that's giving you a hell of the benefit of the doubt. But he dies? It's not just the Capt, most of this crew would give him a hand."

"I have no doubt of that. I would rather he live, and not just for my own sake."

For a moment she searched his face before nodding. "Good."

"I'd best go see to them. If you'll excuse me?"

Nodding, she waved him off before stepping outside.

o.o.o.o

Meanwhile, Macavity strode up to the bridge. "Pounce! What is it now?"

Pounce's gaze was focused on one of his screens, "There's a ship, coming up fast, Captain."

"I thought you said you could get around them?"

"It's not Alliance," Pounce replied.

"You sure? 'Cause if not, then who the hell is it?"

"It's too small for Alliance. I'm reading it as an older model Trans-U."

"Trans-Us don't operate anymore," Mac said with a frown. "Get me a visual. Now."

"They're too far out still for that to-"

"Get me something!" he snapped, something almost like a note of panic entering his voice.

Pounce turned to his readings, "I'm picking up a lot of radiation. They're operating without core containment. That's...that's suicide." The pilot looked up at the other man, paling as it sank in what he'd just said.

"Reavers," Mac said, voice dropping.

"Oh God..." he glanced toward the main comm before his gaze focused on the ship ahead of them.

Macavity reached out, taking the receiver off the wall. "This is the captain," he started, broadcasting around the ship. "We're passing another ship," he said, eying it as it came across the screen. It once had been an normal, commercial spaceliner, but now it was decked out in salvage and spikes and bright red paint.

"Looks to be Reavers," he continued, swallowing. "From the size, probably a raiding party. Could be they're headed somewhere, or they're coming from somewhere full up."

Coricopat paused in the corridor outside his room, listening before glancing at Jemima.

She swallowed hard as the voice continued. "We try and run, they'll have to chase us. We're holding course. We'll pass them in a minute, and we'll see what they do. Jems, get to the bridge."

The doctor hesitated, "I...I don't understand."

"You never hear of Reavers?" she asked, glancing back at him.

"Only campfire stories. Men gone savage, killing...worse."

"They ain't stories," Jemi replied.

He paled, "What happens if we're boarded?"

She considered him for a moment. "They'll rape us to death, eat our flesh and sew our skins into their clothing and if we're very very lucky, they'll do it in that order." Swallowing, she turned, taking the stairs three at a time up to the bridge.

Coricopat turned, hurrying to the infirmary and finding Cohen already there, bible in hand.

Tugger moved by, already setting out any arsenal he had as Jemi reached the bridge. Saying nothing, she stood behind her husband, slipping a hand onto his shoulder. Pounce reached up, clasping his wife's hand with his own, his gaze sweeping over the other ship, "Mac, that's a magnetic grappler... They get ahold of us with that..."

"Just tell me if they alter course," Macavity said, voice low. He really did not want to hear how they were going to be attacked.

The silence lengthened while Pounce kept checking his readings. A nearly interminable minute later he spoke, sounding like he couldn't quite believe it, "They're holding course."

Mac let out a breath he'd barely realized he'd been holding. "They're pushing out further every year," Jemi said quietly.

"Gettin' crowded in my sky," Macavity sighed, running a hand through his hair and looking displeased.

Pounce swallowed hard as he nodded, his hand tightening around Jemi's. Looking between them, Mac turned and headed for the door. "Call me if anything else goes wrong," he shot over his shoulder.

The pilot nodded, though his attention was on his wife, "Yes, sir."

Striding down to the infirmary, Mac glanced at the girl who'd come out of the box. She was curled up on a side bench, sleeping. Considering her, Mac crossed his arms with a slight frown.

"Hey, Capt," a woozy voice murmured behind him, and he turned to see Mistoffelees half awake, though probably under the influence of several different painkillers and other drugs.

"And how's little Misto?" he asked, moving over.

"All shiny, Capt," he replied with a faint smile. "Can't feel much below my belly and it's chilly, but shiny as shiny can be."

"Really now?" Mac asked with a fond smile, trying to ignore the rest of what his mechanic was saying. Fetching a blanket, he layered it on the smaller man. "You gotta rest, you hear? Somethin' gonna break down soon and who else I got to fix it?"

"Don't worry none," Mistoffelees shook his head and blinked, as it just made him feel more woozy. "Doc fixed me up. He's nice."

"Don't work on that crush too hard, xiao didi," Mac replied. "He won't be with us that long."

"You're nice too," Mistoffelees beamed up at him.

"No I ain't. I'm a mean old man," Mac took Mistoffelees' hand, holding it for a long moment.

"He wasn't gonna let me die," Mistoffelees said, starting to scold. "So don't go actin' like he was. You gotta have faith in other people, sometimes. Remember that you're a nice man."

Coricopat entered the infirmary, a basic immunization package that Griddlebone had given him in his hand. He paused when he saw the captain, but smiled at the sight of Mistoffelees, "It's good to see you awake."

The smaller man offered him a bright smile, hand still in Mac's and the Captain did not look inclined to move much. "Nice bein' awake," he said, voice still hazy.

The doctor glanced between the two, "How are you feeling?"

"All shiny like," Mistoffelees replied.

"Said he couldn't feel below his belly and was cold," Mac added, contradicting his mechanic.

Coricopat nodded, "Feeling should return soon, it's a side-effect of one of the medicines."

"Good," Macavity said and Mistoffelees just beamed at him.

"You worry too much," the smaller murmured.

"And you don't enough," Mac returned, glancing back at him.

The doctor hesitated before moving over and checking the readings for Mistoffelees' vitals and slipped quietly over to where his sister was sleeping.

Mac watched him before looking back at his mechanic. "Have to go be captainy," he murmured and Mistoffelees shooed him off with a few more quiet words.

Coricopat drew a deep breath before turning back to the injured mechanic, "I...wanted to apologize for earlier. I shouldn't have done that."

Still unsteady on drugs, Mistoffelees blinked. "What?"

The doctor paused and then shook his head, "Nevermind. You should rest."

"Oh, you mean for usin' me as a bargaining chip with the captain?" Mistoffelees murmured.

He winced slightly at that, "Yes, that."

"Worked out alright," he murmured. "Did your job..."

"Still. I shouldn't have endangered you like that."

"Wasn't you that shot me," Mistoffelees murmured.

"I..." He finally nodded, "True."

Rolling his head slightly, Mistoffelees glanced at the girl sharing the infirmary with him. "She's pretty," he said.

Coricopat smiled faintly at that, "She is. And so very precious."

"Who is she?" Mistoffelees asked, having not heard yet. "I'm sure I didn't let her onboard..."

"My sister. And...technically you did. You just didn't know it. And God only knows if it was wise of me."

Shifting, the mechanic blinked up at him. "In the big box you had?" he guessed, still confused, trying to put things together through the drugs and pain.

The doctor nodded, "She was in cryo, I was hoping she wouldn't wake for another week or so, hopefully it would have given her time to adjust to things. As it stands now...I've no idea."

"Why's she in cryo?"

"It was the only way to get her out of the academy the government had her in. I don't know what was happening, but she asked me to get her out...so I did. For what good it's done."

Tilting his head, Mistoffelees smiled at him, "Makes you sound all sorts of brave and loving..."

Coricopat's brow arched at that, "Makes me sound all kinds of thoughtless and idiotic. I don't know where I'm supposed to take her, how to help her, what to even begin to do to keep her safe. And I've put the entire ship in danger."

"Ship can handle it," Mistoffelees said, reaching a hand out and resting it lightly on Coricopat's waist-currently the only thing he could reach. "Had worse. Better cause than most."

The young doctor started at the touch, stepping away from it and offering the other his hand after a moment, "Yeah, tell that to some of the others..."

"They'll nicer than they act," Mistoffelees told him, squeezing his hand.

Coricopat looked skeptical, but finally nodded, "Probably. You do need rest, though."

"Feel like I've slept too much..."

"Your body's still healing. And I fear we've run out of conversation."

That got a blink. "Not entirely creative there are you...?" Mistoffelees smiled faintly. "Plenty to talk about..." But even so he was starting to drift.

"And if we talk about it now, what would we talk about later?"

"Planning to be here later?" Mistoffelees asked, dragging his eyes up to his face and offering him a smile.

"For as long as I can stay on board."

"So when I wake up?" Mistoffelees said.

"I should still be here, yes," the doctor said.

"Good," Mistoffelees murmured, more obviously just barely holding onto consciousness. "Like havin' you around... nice..."

"Sleep now. Talk later," the doctor was only half hearing what the smaller man was saying.

Mistoffelees murmured something else, finally letting his hand drop. Coricopat pulled the blanket a bit higher before going to re-check the infirmary's stock.

o.o.o.o

Mac made his way back to the bridge, feeling like he'd given Pounce and Jemi enough time to themselves.

Pounce looked up at the approaching steps, "Hey, Captain."

"Any new crises?" he asked, flippant but something serious lurking behind his words.

"No new ones, no. How's Misto?"

"Healin' surprising well," Mac replied. "Doctor knows his business, I'll grant him that."

There was a noise from the console, Pounce turned to it, "We're being hailed."

"That'd be Patience then. Close enough for a vid, so put her on up," Macavity said, moving into position.

The screen flickered to life, showing a pioneer woman of about fifty, "Macavity Hollister?"

"Hello, Patience," he replied, arrogance on full tilt.

"Have to say, I didn't look to be hearin' from you anytime soon."

"We didn't pass on the best of terms, and some words were exchanged some... bullets. But it's all air through the engine, long gone. We're business people and fightin' for salvage is past you. What are you now, mayor?"

"Just about," she drawled. "You tellin' the truth about that there cargo? 'Cause your askin' price is a bit too reasonable for that much treasure."

Mac didn't bat an eyelash. "Imprinted. Alliance. Hence your lovely discount you won't find anywhere else."

"Government goods, huh?"

"If that doesn't work for you, we'll find another buyer. Just thought you might find a use-"

"Now, now I ain't said that. I like that you're up front about it. We can deal. I'll upload coordinates for a rendezvous point outside of town."

"See you in the world," Mac said, hitting the button that cut communication. Leaning back, he considered the darkened screen. "I do believe that woman's plannin' to shoot me again."

Pouncival nodded slightly, "If she meant to pay she'd've haggled."

"Just a little effort to hide it..." Jemi sighed. "Sir, we don't have to deal with her."

"Yes we do," Mac snapped.

Tugger glanced up from where he'd been leaning at the doorway, listening. "Why don't' we shoot her first?"

"It  _is_  her turn," Pounce supplied from where he was still seated at the console.

"That doesn't get us what we need," Mac replied, angry.

"We could try our luck-" Tugger started and Mac rose, a pillar of fury.

"Our luck? You notice anythin' bout that lately? Any kind of a pattern?" He paused, swallowing hard. "You depend on your luck and you end up adrift and... that ain't us. Not ever. She has the money to pay, and she's gonna, whether she likes it or not. We got obstacles? We deal with them one by one."

Pounce hesitated but finally nodded, "How far from rendezvous do you want me to put this old girl down?"

"Decently so, we'll scout it out," Mac said, striding out of the bridge, Jemi and Tugger trailing after him.

The pilot sighed and turned his attention to getting them where they needed to be.


	4. We're Still Flyin'

After Macavity, Tugger, and Jemi departed the ship for their meet with Patience, Cohen slipped down to the room where Plato was being kept. He tapped lightly on the door, "Lawman? It's Shepherd Cohen." He slid the door open slightly, "I believe you may be in more danger than-" he was cut off as something caught him hard across the face, sending him back against the opposite wall. Before he could react, Plato knocked him over the head twice more and dragged him into the now empty room.

s-s-s-s

Macavity and Jemima stood together at the end of a long valley as Patience and her boys rode up. Hands hooked in his belt, Mac watched them impassively.

Patience reined her horse in, smirking at them, "Mac! How you doin', boy?"

"Walkin' and talkin'," he replied.

"Is that Jemi, there?" You still sailin' with this bum?"

"Lots of men to haul those crates," Jemi remarked, brushing past any reference to her and Mac working together.

Patience shrugged, "Yeah, well, I couldn't be sure Mac here wouldn't be lookin' for some kinda payback. You understand."

"We're on the job, not lookin' for surprises," Mac replied, eyes straying to where he hoped Tugger was taking out the snipers. The location was ripe for an ambush, and he only hoped Patience thought they were idiots. Having come in early, Mac only hoped Tugger was where he was supposed to be.

Patience looked around, leaning on the saddle horn slightly, "I don't see my cargo anywhere..."

"Not gonna, til I have the two hundred platinum in my hands," Mac replied.

"Oh come on, I'm supposed to take it on faith you got the goods?"

From inside his coat, Mac pulled a bar out, tossing it over. "Pure protein. Protein, vitamins, immunization supplements. One of those feed a family for a month. Or longer, depending on how well they like their kids. It's Alliance grade no less, not the cheap stuff."

Patience peeled back the foil, sniffing at it before taking a tiny nibble. She finally nodded, "Yeah, that's it." She tossed him a small bag from pocket, "So where's the rest?"

"East half a mile, bottom first hill. You'll see where it's been dug," he replied.

"I reckon I will," she responded, not moving.

"I'd appreciate it if y'all turn around and ride out first," Mac said after several tense moments of silence as they stared at each other.

"Well, you see, there's a kind of hitch," Patience drawled. "i got a rule. I never let go of money I don't have to. Which is maybe why I'm runnin' this little ol' world and you're still on that dinky boat, sniffin' for scraps."

Taking a breath, Mac tossed the money between them. "Got it back. Not need for killin'."

"Are we just gonna walk away, sir?" Jemi hissed at him.

"That's up to Patience here. Could get messy after all."

"Not terribly." The older woman chuckled, "Mac, you just ain't very bright, are you?"

He shrugged, taking half a step forward. "That's quite a rifle on that boy. Must be your best shot."

"He's called Two-Fry. Always makes it quick and clean."

"Two-Fry," Mac nodded. "Nice hat."

Right on cue a shot rang out from a sniper rifle, taking the best shot of the group out. Swallowing his relief, Mac got his gun out the same time as Jemi, opening fire on the group as the gun from the hill continued shooting.

Diving behind some bushes for cover, Mac cursed as a shot hit Jemi right in the chest, knocking her flat on her back.

Between the horses panicking and the bullets missing their mark and kicking up dust the two sides were quickly obscured from each other, though Patience was losing men at an alarming rate, both to Mac and to the unseen sniper.

s-s-s-s

Back on the ship, Mistoffelees blinked at Tantomile gave a cry and suddenly sat bolt upright. "Honey?" he started as she rose.

"Coricopat," the girl said.

"What's wrong?" Mistoffelees asked, trying to sit up and with a gasp giving that up. Tantomile wondered toward the door, looking around desperately for her brother.

As soon as the girl reached the door she was grabbed, Plato holding her steady with a gun to her head, "Well, well, look at you, all woke up." He trained a second gun on Mistoffelees, "Sorry about what happened before, but make so much as a sound, and the next one goes through your throat." He dragged Tantomile back with him away from the infirmary.

Mistoffelees stared after him in horror, looking around the infirmary in panic. There was a com there, of course, but that meant he had to get there first of all...

Coricopat was perched in the cock-pit with Pounce, having left his sister and patient sleeping. The pilot was shaking his head, "You should think about asking the captain to drop you off somewhere else. Whitefall ain't exactly civilization in the strictest sense."

"You don't have to worry about me, though thanks."

"Jemi's out on a deal. I always worry, you just happen to be here to be worried over."

The com crackled to life and Mistoffelees' voice came over it, strained. He'd dragged himself off the cot to the counter. "He took Tant..." he said, voice weak.

The doctor bolted, having quickly categorized who the 'he' could be. Pounce rose to follow him, but froze at the sound of a proximity warning going off. He moved over to look at the read out, swearing under his breath, "Don't you dare..."

s-s-s-s

The firefight was still going out in the valley. Jemi lifted her gun from where she was flat on her back to shoot a man trying to get around Mac. The captain was shot in one arm, but they'd gotten to troop down to just Patience at that point, who was hiding behind her horse. "Jems?" Mac grunted.

"Armor's dented," she grunte, pulling her shirt open and glaring down at the black material as if it's dent was a personal failing it really should see to.

"You were right about this bein' a bad idea," Mac said.

"Thanks for sayin' so, sir."

Patience leveled her shotgun at Macavity, "Mac, don't take another step."

He gave her a long look, suddenly bringing his gun up to shoot the horse. It fell over, taking her with it and trapping her there for a moment. Stalking up, Mac pointed the gun at her face. "Now, I did a job. I got nothin' but trouble since this whole thing started, not to mention a few unkind things said as regard to my character, so let me make this abundantly clear. I do a job," he leaned down to take the money back. "And then I get paid."

She glared up at him, but nodded, "There's your pay then."

"Go run your little world," he replied, stepping back as Tugger came bolting down the side of the hill, out of breath.

"Mac! Pounce! We got a ship comin' in and it's the Reavers. The gorram Reavers followed us!"

s-s-s-s

Coricopat reached the cargo bay in time to see Plato trying to make it out of the airlock with Tant. The young doctor leapt down, landing on the cop, sending Plato's guns skittering away and winding both men. Plato caught his breath first, starting toward one of the guns, but Coricopat intercepted him, holding him back until the other managed to knock him in the face with his elbow. The lawman crawled for his primary weapons, but Coricopat rolled over and grabbed the other one, aiming it, "Don't move!"

They were interrupted as the comm came to life, Pounce's voice echoing around the ship, "Reavers incoming and headed straight for us! We are in the air in one minute!" The engines could be felt warming up, a steady hum offsetting the stand-off in the cargo bay.

Plato watched the doctor, seeing how his hand shook, "You gonna do that? You gonna kill a lawman in cold blood. I know what you did for your sister. I understand. It doesn't make you a killer. I don't wanna hurt anybody. I have a job to do. To uphold the law - that's what we're talking about here."

Tantomile had screamed, moving back into the corner, especially every time the gun moved. Her mind couldn't comprehend anything, and everything felt too bright and jagged after sleeping so long, being kept inside for so long.

"There's nowhere you can take her the law won't find. Nobody is going to hurt her. Unless you hurt me," Plato tried as he started to stand.

Coricopat steadied his hand, keeping the gun trained on the lawman, "I said - I said don't-don't move!"

Plato looked at him coldly, "It's your call."

The doctor glanced at his sister again, uncertain. The airlock started to open to allow Mac, Jemi and Tugger access. The noise was enough of a distraction for Coricopat that Plato was able to grab the second gun and fire. The shot missed, but the doctor was forced to take cover. Plato was on his feet and had Tant with a gun to her head again quickly, "I'm not playing anymore." His gaze darted around, focusing briefly on Coricopat, on Cohen who was leaning heavily on a doorframe, and on Griddlebone who stood just outside her shuttle, "Anybody makes so much as a-"

Mac just kept striding inside his own ship, not even breaking his pace to shoot the lawman in the head. Tantomile shrieked again as the man holding her died before he hit the ground, though it meant she was free. Jumping back, she turned huge eyes toward Macavity, who was still moving with Tugger.

"Pounce, we're on," Jemi said, hitting the comm.

They picked up Plato's body and carried it back across the hold, dumping it outside even as the cargo bay doors started to close.

Coricopat lowered his gun and moved carefully over to his sister, hoping to calm her even as the ship took off. The hatch wasn't even fully closed as Serenity left the ground.

Mac and Jemi ran up to the bridge, Tugger glancing at Cohen and the brother and sister pair a moment. He approached Coricopat. "Is Misto okay?" he asked, voice low. Since there had been a gun thrown around and the last place he'd noticed Tantomile was the infirmary.

The doctor looked up, "I think so. He was alive last I heard, I haven't made it back to the infirmary since we got word that...man was out." He carefully drew his sister into a half embrace, "We'd best go check."

"Yeah," Tugger hissed. "Go check." He turned to storm onto the bridge, poking his head into the infirmary on the way, only taking the time to note Mistoffelees' condition-which was alive-before running to catch up with the others on the bridge.

Mac burst into the front of the ship. "How close are they?"

"Twenty seconds from spitting distance," Pounce answered, his gaze darting over the instrument panel as he maneuvered the ship away as fast as he could with having just taken off.

"Loose 'em!" Tugger said, reaching the doorway.

"Get me rear vid," Mac demanded of Jemi, who pulled up the screen and cursed as she saw it.

"How close do they need to be to use those grapples?" Mac asked, voice strained.

"C'mon you dumbass, dodge them!" Tugger yelped.

"If everybody could be quiet for just a moment..." Pounce murmured, veering hard for the hills, darting between them. The reavers were still hot on their tail. The pilot didn't bat an eye, outwardly calm, "I need Misto in the engine room, please."

"Can he even-?" Jem started.

"Get him in there," Mac told Tugger. "Now."

Nodding, Tugger jogged out, past Griddlebone.

Grids stepped onto the bridge, "Mac..."

He turned to her, shuffling her back out into the hallway. "Get to your shuttle. Grab the civilians, be ready to take off."

"We can't just lea eyou here," she protested.

"I thought leavin' was the plan," he returned.

"Mac, don't do this..."

"We end up boarded, you take off and head for town. We might have a chance of stoppin' them from following."

"They'll kill you," she couldn't help the note of desperation that crept into her voice.

He stared at her a long moment. "Griddlebone," he said, and it was clear that even that was something he hadn't meant to say. He reached a hand out to her shoulder, leaving it there a moment before pushing her gently away. "Go." Turning, he went back to the bridge without allowing himself to look back.

She looked at him for a long moment before turning and heading for the infirmary.

"How are we doing?" Mac asked Pounce, striding up.

"I don't mean to alarm anybody," he murmured, dryly, "but I think we're being followed." Mac glanced at the rear screen and swallowed.

s-s-s-s

Griddlebone entered the infirmary. She slipped past Tugger, who had Misto in his arms, and focused on the other three, "You all, come with me."

Cohen shook his head, "I think I can help Mistoffelees with the engine."

Coricopat grabbed a couple of things he would need, placing a gentle hand on his sister's shoulder, "Tant, you're going to go with Griddlebone. She'll keep you safe." His eyes locked with Grids'.

The companion frowned, "Go Shepherd. Doctor, what do you think-"

He cut her off as Cohen exited, "I have a patient who should be confined to bed for at least another week working in an engine room. I'm going down to make sure he doesn't cause his heart to shut down."

Tant nodded, following the companion. She recognized it was the companion's robe she was currently wearing.

Tugger meanwhile moved through the ship quickly, cradling the significantly smaller mechanic in his arms, setting him down carefully in a corner. The room, for an engine room, was cheery. There was a hammock in one corner, for when Mistoffelees would rather listen to his engine hum than be in his quarters.

Cohen and Coricopat arrived moments after Tugger and Mistoffelees. Pounce's voice crackled over the comm, "Misto, how we doing? We're gonna need a little push here if you're set."

"Here," Misto rasped. "You want me to go for full burn then?"

"Not just yet, but set it up."

"You know where the press regulator is?" Mistoffelees asked, glancing at Cohen.

The shepherd glanced around and then moved over to a section of the engine, pointing to a panel.

"Top of the class," Mistoffelees smiled but coughed hard and winced in the pain it caused. Coricopat knelt beside the mechanic, keeping an eye on him, and hoping he'd be able to keep the other stable and conscious under the stress.

Mistoffelees glanced at him, a little unsure how to feel about him being there, before hitting the comm. "Ready for full burn on your mark."

On the bridge, Jemi glanced at her husband. "Full burn in atmo? Won't that cause a blowback and burn us out?"

"Even if it doesn't they can push just as hard and keep right on us." The captain paused and continued. "You gotta give me an Ivan."

Pounce glanced at them, "I'll see what I can do." He turned back to the comm, "Misto, how would you feel about pulling a Crazy Ivan?"

Back in the engine room, Mistoffelees blinked, lolling his head against the wall. "Always wanted to try one. Tugger, open the port jet control and cut the hydraulics," he pointed to a panel.

"Where the hell is-" Tugger started, turning around.

"Look, look where I'm pointing!" Finally Tugger followed the hand and pulled open the panel. "Okay, now it's real simple..."

Taking one look at the mess of wires, Tugger gave the mechanic a long look. "Simple if you do what I tell you," Mistoffelees amended.

s-s-s-s

Pounce glanced at the closing ship, seeing their magnetic grappler warming up, "Misto...?"

"Okay," he said over the comm.

"Everybody hold on to something." He glanced at the other ship again, "Here's something you can't do..." Slamming down a lever the pilot kept careful control of the ship as the port jet flipped the other direction, sending Serenity into a perfect 180. The jet returned to its original position, sending them straight at the reavers' ship which dodged at the last second. "Now, Misto! Everything we've got!"

Mistoffelees motioned at Tugger, who pulled on a lever, lighting the entire engine up with a blinding light as it started to turn even faster. Ripples of fire came off the end of the ship as they blasted toward space, hitting the Reaver ship.

Pouncival yanked up on the controls until they broke atmo. He finally eased off, smiling faintly.

"Knew there was a reason I hired you," Mac said, letting out a long breath.

Pounce chuckled, "What, it wasn't my charm and good looks?"

Mac rolled his eyes, picking up the comm. "We're out of the woods, people," he told the ship, handing it back up.

The pilot spoke again, "We should have just enough left in us to hit a fuel station. We'll need to do some patching up so I hope we got paid today."

"We did," Mac nodded.

"Sir," Jemi said. "I'd like you to take the helm please." She reached down, taking the front of her husband's shirt and tugging him up. "I need this man to tear all my clothes off."

Pounce got out of his chair, looping an arm around his wife and smirking a bit, "Work, work, work..."

Mac waved them off, plopping into the pilot's chair and staring off into the stars of space.

In the engine room, Tugger was yelping in joy as Mistoffelees patted the side of the ship. "There's my good girl," he murmured.

Coricopat glanced toward Tugger and then at Mistoffelees, concern lighting his expression, "Tugger. Once you're done there, I need you to help Mistoffelees back to the infirmary."

They both stopped, Tugger leaning down. "You need to go back?" he asked, worry leaking abruptly into his voice.

"Yeah, that'd be good," Mistoffelees nodded, and coughed. "Hell. You know the worst thing about coughing right now?" Tugger shook his head. "Moves my stomach," the mechanic muttered.

"I'll get you something for the cough once we're at the infirmary," Coricopat murmured. "And sleep, you still need it."

Mistoffelees glanced up at him as Tugger reached down to help him to his feet. "Don't carry me," he said and Tugger gave him a long look. "I can still walk! With support..."

The doctor looked skeptical at that as well, "After that much stress?"

"I," the mechanic started and Tugger didn't give him a chance to respond, scooping him up. Opening his mouth to protest again, Mistoffelees gave up, curling up in the other's arms. "Alright, fine."

Coricopat nodded once, hurrying ahead of them to locate what he would need for Misto's cough.

Once back in the infirmary, Tugger set Mistoffelees carefully back down in the bed in the middle of the room. "Now rest," he commanded.

"I think it's the doctor's job to tell me that," Mistoffelees muttered, reaching a hand out to rest on Tugger's arm. "Thanks, though, for the help."

"Yeah, well, I don't wanna be havin' to deal with the engine again. That's your job, hear? So get better and do it," Tugger replied briskly.

Smiling, Mistoffelees just nodded.

The doctor glanced at Tugger, "I'll take good care of him. He could be on his feet again before a week's up, if he takes it easy."

Tugger nodded, turning and slipping out. Infirmary always gave him a bad feeling and he was glad to be out of it. Mistoffelees tilted his head back to watch the doctor, coughing again. "Sorta surprised to see you there..." he started.

"Where?" Coricopat finally found the medicine he'd been seeking and handed a dose to the other to take.

Mistoffelees took it before continuing. "In the engine room. Sorta... thought you'd be with your sister."

"And have to deal with the captain and Tugger if your heart stopped from the stress? Thank you, no."

That got a smile from the mechanic. "Still, thanks."

"You're welcome."

Having slipped away from Griddlebone, Tantomile floated into the infirmary, sitting and watching silently. Mistoffelees blinked at her before looking back at the doctor. "You doing okay?"

"Of course I am," he answered, his gaze drifting to his sister.

She waved a hand at him, as if directing him to pay attention to the other man. "Well," Mistoffelees said, watching the girl too. "It's sorta a hell of a first day on a ship."

That earned a half-laugh, "I'll grant you that."

"Nice you didn't get off at Whitefall," Mistoffelees continued.

"I think the captain was in a bit of a rush at that point."

"Still, means you're here longer," Mistoffelees said with a beaming smile.

Coricopat offered him a bit of a smile at that, "This is true. I'm very glad of that."

"You are?" Mistoffelees brightened.

The doctor nodded slightly, "A hell of a first day, but it was only a first day after all."

"Here's to many more?" Mistoffelees offered.

"Here's to many more," the other man agreed.

"I hope you stay," Mistoffelees murmured, voice soft.

"Well, for now that's the plan. You should rest."

"Not really sure I want to," he said with a smile. "I like it right now." Tantomile tilted her head at him, glancing between the mechanic and her brother once before drawing her knees up to her chest and not moving.

Coricopat shook his head, "As your doctor I insist upon it." He turned his attention from the mechanic, looking toward his sister. She shook her head at him once before returning to her position.

"Can," Mistoffelees stopped and started. "You said I'm not supposed to move for a week. Do I gotta stay here the whole time?"

"No, but until I can get someone to come help you somewhere else then you should."

"Okay," he said, settling down. "Just, it's sorta sterile in here, you know? Not sure it's really inductive to healing... but can you get the capt to do it rather than Tugger this time?"

The doctor paused at that, but nodded, "I'll speak with him about it."

"Thanks," Mistoffelees murmured, starting to fall asleep.

"Sleep well." Making another inarticulate sound, Mistoffelees finally allowed himself to fall back asleep.

Coricopat sighed, moving over to sit down next to his sister, "Do you need something to help you sleep, Tant?"

She gave him a long look. "Been sleeping too much," she said, voice rough with disuse but the words coming quickly. "I don't want to anymore." Glancing at the mechanic, she tilted her head. "His heartbeat is strong."

"I should hope it is. It took enough of a fight to get it to be such."

Tantomile gave him a long look. "It's in time to the ship," she said slowly, as if it should have been obvious.

That garnered an odd look, "It's what?"

Tantomile started tapping a finger, both in time to the beeps coming from the monitor Mistoffelees was hooked too, and the distant thrum of the engine. "His heart beats to the ship-it's strong, so is he. If it's not..." She shook her head. "But it is now."

"If it's not, what, Tant...?" the doctor's worry seeped into his tone.

She tilted her head, smiling. "He might not be so strong. But for now he is." She shrugged. "You got your worry face on now though."

"It's been a long few days," her brother answered.

Reaching a hand out, Tantomile took his, wincing slightly as soon as there was contact but smoothing her expression out. "You sleep too then, silly."

"I still have things to deal with. Then I'll sleep, but only if you do."

She narrowed her eyes. "Stop taking care of everyone else and take care of you."

"I will," he promised. "I need to talk to the captain first, and I can't help but take care of you."

Considering him a long moment, she nodded. "Go talk to the captain then," she shooed him off. "I'll be here." Taking her eyes off him, she went back to tapping the same rhythm she had been earlier while watching Mistoffelees sleep.

"I..." He finally nodded, "I'll be back to check on you both soon, alright?" She nodded, not paying him any attention.

Coricopat hesitated, but finally slipped out of the infirmary, going to find the captain.

Tugger glanced at Mac as he entered the bridge, going to the lockers along one side to fetch what he needed. "The girl could be a problem," he said with no preamble. "The Alliance seemed to want her."

"Suppose so," Mac said, arms crossed and his feet propped up on Pounce's board. When Tugger shrugged and turned to leave, Mac stopped him. "What's surprisin' to me is how that law man got out of his room."

The mercenary froze. "You accusin' me of something, capt?"

"Well," Mac leaned his head back on the seat to consider him. "Should I be?"

"No," Tugger returned. "Didn't sell you out. The money weren't nearly good enough."

"And if the money ever is?" Mac asked with an arched brow.

"Well, on that day, we'll see," Tugger returned, with a small smirk and he turned again to go, seeing Coricopat in the hallway and not making room for him, bumping harshly into his shoulder instead.

The doctor grimaced at that, stepping onto the bridge. His gaze flickered to the blood on Macavity's arm, "Do you need me to look at that?"

Mac looked down, as if just remembering he'd been shot. "Just a graze."

"As long as you're sure..." He paused, "Mistoffelees wanted me to ask if you'd be willing to help him to either his cabin or somewhere else. As long as it's not the infirmary. He's currently asleep, but when he wakes."

Mac nodded. "Course. He's more the type to be happier in a warmer place than there."

There was another long pause before Coricopat spoke again, "So, where do you plan on dumping us then?"

"There's some places you might be safe enough. Though, truth be told, you're probably safest on the move." He paused a beat, glancing back at the man. "And we never stop movin'."

A long blink greeted that, "I'm confused. No, wait, I think maybe you're confused..."

"Aint' confused," Mac returned. "This ship could use a medic and you ain't wake. I don't know how smart you are, top three percent of your class and all, but you ain't wake and that's what matters out in the black. You live under my rules, keep your sister from doin' anything crazy like, and you might find a place here. 'Til you find better."

"I'm trying to put this as delicately as I possibly can," the doctor started. "But how do I know you won't kill me in my sleep?"

Mac gave him a long look, something like anger lurking behind it. "You don't know me. So I'll explain it to you this once: I ever get the hankerin' to kill you, you'll be awake, you'll be facing me, and you'll be armed."

A faint half smile greeted that, "Are you always this sentimental?"

"Had a good day," Mac said, turning back to the stars.

"You had the Alliance on you, criminals and savages... half the people on the ship have been shot or wounded including yourself, and you're harboring known fugitives. This is a good day?"

"We're still flyin'," Macavity said.


	5. Best in Beverages that Make You Go Blind

Griddlebone sat at the bar of a pool hall where Mac and Tugger were engaged in a game of pool with a man, who seemed to be rather inclined to chatter on about his ship's latest cargo. "Didn't have to convert the ship even. Six in the corner. Stronger locks, thicker doors, keep everybody where they're supposed to be. Don't even need more rations."

"You made money then?" Tugger asked, looking up as the pool table flickered and came back on.

"Hand over fist my friend. Water planets need labor, teraforming crews got a prodigious death rate."

"And by labor... you mean slaves," Mac remarked, hitting a ball off the table.

"Well it wasn't volunteers, for damn sure," the man took his shot.

"That why you didn't feel like you needed to feed them more?" Mac asked, glancing back at Griddlebone.

"I didn't hear any complaints," the man chuckled to himself.

Mac scowled, stepping back and moving over to Griddlebone as Tugger continued talking to the man. The companion glanced up at him, "Fascinating game."

"Old school," Mac said with a shrug, leaning against the bar. "Might want to head back to the ship though."

"I'm alright, Mac. It's rather entertaining."

"What's so entertain'?" he asked, moving to stand a little in front of her.

"The game. As with other situations the key seems to be giving Tugger a heavy stick and standing back."

"Still, might want to consider calling it a night. Seems there's a thief abouts."

"A thief?" She eyed him suspiciously.

"Took it right off him," he said, handing her a wad of cash.

"Mac..." She took the money, not protesting more than that as she slipped it into the bodice of her dress.

"Earned it with slave labor," he replied. "Besides, they won't notice until he goes to order the next round of drinks."

A heavy hand landed on Mac's shoulder, the fella he'd been playing pool with glowering at him, "Hey, you!"

"Fast drinker, that one," Mac said, turning and slugging him on the jaw. Once Tugger realized there was a fight he happily hit the man next to him that moments before he had companionably been playing pool with.

Moments later, Mac and Tugger had gotten most of the bar on the ground, Mac hustling Griddlebone outside. Grids shook her head at them, "Have you ever considered not fighting with everyone?"

"Sure I have," he said. "Figured it get boring." That got a roaring laugh out of Tugger.

"Can we go again?"

"No." Grids cut in, "We can go back to the ship. I'm due on Persephone, remember?"

"Not for another day," Mac replied. "But yeah, Tug, gotta get her ladyship turned in.

"Soon enough that you can't pick another bar fight," she retorted.

"Sides, Tug, what'll you do tomorrow, you use up all your barfighting today?" Mac laughed, looking more relaxed than usual for throwing some punches.

Grids rolled her eyes, "Hopeless, the both of you."

Grinning, neither even tried to deny it.

s-s-s-s

Pounce glanced at his wife as they started their descent onto Persephone the next day, "Seem to you we cleared out of Santo in a hurry?"

"Clear a lot of places in a hurry," she shrugged, half sitting on the counter next to him, her hand on his shoulder. "Heard tell though, we're going to stay a while on Persephone."

"Shiny," her husband offered her a bit of a grin.

"Thought you'd go crazy that long in port," she said, smoothing a hand along his neck and shoulder.

He leaned into the touch, turning his head to kiss her wrist, "Probably, but I've been sane a long while now. Change is good."

Mac entered the bridge and Jemi carefully disentangled her wrist.

"Well, ain't that a joyful sight," Mac was saying, looking outside the viewport.

Pounce managed to suppress his sigh, "Gotta love a sunset."

"Startin' to get familiar too, like a second home," Jemi murmured.

"Ain't home. Too many people to avoid," Mac said, shaking his head. "Re-supply, find some work, move along. We sniff the air, we don't kiss the dirt."

His second arched a brow at him. "Wasn't plannin' on kissing any dirt, sir."

"Besides, I wouldn't stand for it anyway, Captain, jealous man like me," Pounce's words were light, but there was something in his eyes that might show a level of truth to them. An alarm went off and he turned back to the console, "Closing in."

"Planet's coming up a mite fast there, hon," Jemi said, glancing out the viewport.

"That's just 'cause I'm going down too quick," he replied, working quickly. "Likely crash and kill us all."

"Well, that happens, just let me know," Mac deadpanned before turning to leave.

"Okay, whoa." Pounce finally breathed a gentle sigh, "We're good, we're good. It's okay." He actually looked a bit rattled by that, his focus entirely on the landing.

s-s-s-s

Mac stepped into Griddlebone's shuttle just as she was closing a conversation with one of her clients. She glanced up at him, turning slightly, "Good afternoon, Captain."

"Morning," Mac corrected. "We're downin' and so long as Pounce doesn't end us all in a fireball of death, local time's gonna be around ten or so."

"I did see that, yes," Griddlebone nodded slightly.

Mac glanced behind her to the screen she had been talking on. "Growltiger? Ain't he a regular of yours?"

She quickly reached over and pulled a nearby curtain over the screen, "I've seen him before."

"I never did," Mac remarked. "Not quite what I pictured. Young. Must be rich too, to afford your rate."

"I suppose. He has engaged me for several days after all."

"Days?" Mac asked, eyes widening slightly in alarm and trying not to imagine anything. "Boy must have stamina."

She pursed her lips, "He does."

"Well," Mac floundered and tried to recover. "The boy lettin' you out at all then?"

"We're attending a ball tomorrow night."

"A ball? So do all the men there pay for their dates or just the young rich ones with stamina?" he asked, voice echoing both sarcasm and something more.

She looked at him for a long moment, "Most of the women will not be Companions, if that's what you're asking. Perhaps the other men couldn't attract one."

"Sounds like a night," Mac drawled. "Finest party I can imagine getting paid to go to."

"I don't suppose you'd find it up to standards of your outings," she replied coldly. "More conversation and somewhat less petty theft and getting hit with pool cues. I understand if you need to go prepare for that it's ten in the morning issue."

He blinked once at that obvious dismissal, hooking his thumbs in the brown suspenders he was wearing over his red shirt. "Yeah, cos this is more of an evenin' look."

She turned away, waiting until she heard him leave before rising and straightening her shuttle.

s-s-s-s

Several hours and one supply gathering mission later, the crew was heading back toward the ship when Mistoffelees stopped in front of a window. He wasn't carrying much, as his stomach was still healing. It was almost a complete recovery, but not quite there yet. "Look at the pretties!" he couldn't help exclaiming.

Pounce looked up at the shop window, "Am I looking at the clothes or the models?"

"There's clothes?" Tugger asked, as if that just occurred to him.

His wife gave Tugger a long look before turning back to her husband. "The clothes, please."

The pilot offered Jemi a grin, "Oh very well."

"I like that one," Mistoffelees said, gesturing to a suit that was well fitted, even though it had a surprising number of ruffles and frills on it to still show off the wearers figure.

"I don't know," Jemi said, tilting her head. "I was gonna dress up, I'd want something with some slink in it."

Pounce's eyes lit up, "You want a slinky dress? I can buy you a slinky dress." He turned to Mac, "Captain, can I have money for a slinky dress?"

Mac opened his mouth to reply, shifting the heavy sack he was holding but Tugger beat him to it. "I'll pitch a share in for that."

"I can hurt you," Jemi returned, not even looking back at him.

Pounce sighed softly, "Sorry, Jemi, looks like I'll have to get you that slinky dress later."

"Someday, dear," she said, patting his arm. "Have to actually find a nice one first."

"I mean, some of this stuff looks almost as nice as what Grids has," Mistoffelees continued, still looking a bit starry eyed at it, only half having paid attention to the conversation behind him.

"Best we be movin'," Mac said, temper starting to flare ever so slightly.

"Well, she probably needs all that stuff, the life she leads," Pounce remarked to Mistoffelees.

"Sure," Mistoffelees agreed, tilting his head. "Sometimes I think her customers buy her things too. Rich folks, things like that."

"Come on," Mac said, less annoyed by what he was carrying than the talk of Griddlebone. "Besides, what would you do in a rig like that?" he asked, gesturing to the suit. "Flounce around the engine room? Be lookin' like a sheep on its hind legs."

Pounce's eyes widened at that moving slightly to get out of the middle of what could be a bit of a fight, but hopefully wouldn't. It was best to get the rig started to get the supplies back to the ship.

Mistoffelees turned a hurt look on the captain, before moving to follow Pounce. Jemi stepped forward, taking the heavy sack away and talking over her captain before he could protest or apologize. "See you back on the ship, sir," she said, putting it on the Mule.

As it drove off, Mac looked disgusted with himself, Tugger tilting his head. "She mad or somethin'?"

A gun cocked behind the two men, Genghis' voice accompanying it, "Captain Hollister. I heard you were in town. Thought we might see about a bit of a sit-down."

"Genghis," Mac greeted. "How about a bit of a piss off?"

"I'm sorry. Did I give you the impression I was asking?" The smaller man arched an eyebrow, his associate's shotgun leveled at the captain of Serenity.

"I'm sure we can come to some sort of an arrangement," Mac said with a cold smile. Genghis motioned for them to join him in his office.

Once they were seated around what was probably a crate rather than a real table, drinking tea out of chipped glasses, Mac arched a brow at Genghis. "Last time there was a chance for a little palaver we were all manner of unwelcome."

Tugger meanwhile was considering the tea. "This ain't half bad," he murmured, as if as shocked as anyone could be.

"There's a trick to it," Genghis spoke to Tugger, ignoring Macavity, "wood-alcohol."

"Now we're favored guests," Mac continued, shooting Tugger a look to shut up. "Treated to... the finest in beverages that turn you blind. So what do you need?"

"There's a local, name of Gus Prentiss. He has some property he wants sold off-planet. It'll fetch a high price," Genghis explained.

Tugger reached past Mac for some of the sandwiches laid out, happily munching on them. "So the local powers won't let him sell off planet?"

"It's a conundrum. He needs a smuggler. I'm willing to cut you in on it."

"Why me then?" Mac asked. "You have your own ships, why not take care of him yourself?"

"He won't deal with me directly," Genghis admitted finally. "He's taken an irrational dislike."

"Why? He see your face?" Tugger asked around a sandwich.

That earned him an unimpressed look, "He's a quality gentleman. Nose in the air and doesn't find me respectable. But you, now I figure you may have a chance."

"You backed out of our last deal," Mac pointed out, distrustful.

"I had a problem with your attitude. You think you're better than other people."

"Pretentious like?" Tugger offered and Mac looked at him in surprise for knowing the word.

"Exactly," Genghis nodded.

Mac rolled his eyes. "Just think I'm better than the ones I'm better than. And that very quality is the one you're placin' value on now."

"I'm placing value on the fact that the stick up your ass is about as large as the one Prentiss has."

"How would you set up a meet, with a man that won't deal with you?" Mac changed the subject, shaking his head slightly.

"I know a place he'll be. Safe place. Using some new-tech gun scans. High-class too. Wouldn't let me in there. You might slip in. Course you couldn't buy an invite with a diamond the size of a testicle, but I got my hands on a couple of them."

Mac and Tugger looked at each other, and couldn't help but snicker at the idea of Genghis with his hands on such things.

The other man scowled, "Of invites you barbarians. You want this meeting or not?"

"We'll take it," Mac nodded once he got his laughter under control.

"Good. You'll need to look respectable-like." He pulled out the invites, "Which means an escort."

"I have just the one in mind," Mac said, accepting the invitations.

s-s-s-s

In the mean time, the rest of the crew had reached the ship, and Mistoffelees had been shooed away from unloading anything heavy. "I can pick my own materials up," he protested.

Coricopat entered the hold, moving over, "The medical supplies?"

"Over there," Mistoffelees motioned. "Another thing I'm apparently not allowed to move." Jemi gave him a long look and returned to packing things in the correct corner of the hold.

"Soon, but you're not fully recovered," Coricopat agreed with them, going to get the medical supplies.

The mechanic made a face. "Oh come on. I can move, I can breathe, I'm fine."

"Until the end of next week you do not get to do any lifting," the doctor was adamant.

Mistoffelees blew a breath out, pouting at him. "So what am I supposed to do then?"

"Sit and look pretty," Tantomile returned from where she had approached the cargo hold, moving like a wraith through the ship. Mistoffelees just about jumped a foot in the air when she spoke.

Coricopat glanced at his sister, "Well, rest at least. Sitting isn't required, but it would certainly keep you from straining your wound at all."

Making a face, Mistoffelees sat on the bottom of the stairs.

The doctor hefted the medical supplies, "If you'd like you could come help me stow this."

That got him upright. "Okay," he said, just wanting to be useful as much as stay in the other's space. Tantomile tilted her head at him before shaking it and flouncing off to where Pounce and Jemi had almost finished unloading the mule.

Coricopat offered him a bit of a smile and led the way to the infirmary. Trailing after him, Mistoffelees considered the vest the other was wearing, trying to focus on that rather than paying too much attention to how he was moving. "You seem to have settled into the ship well," he said finally.

"It's a useful place to be. Safe, and it's a nice family unit you all have, though it is a little odd to feel like an outsider."

The mechanic tilted his head at him. "How do you mean?"

"Well, like I said. You've a good family unit."

"You consider us a family?" Mistoffelees asked, as if it had never occurred to him and he was wrapping his mind around it now.

"Well...somewhat, yes."

"You're the only one who has real family here," Mistoffelees said, brushing his hair back. "Well, I guess Jems and Pounce count but…"

"Well, I suppose that's why you all draw together."

"I donno, I think it's as much the Capt's war experience. You stick by your men, that sort of a thing," Mistoffelees shrugged.

"Possibly, yes," Coricopat started closing down emotionally at that as they entered the infirmary.

Mistoffelees blinked. "Something the matter?"

"No. Why would anything be wrong?"

"I donno," Mistoffelees tilted his head. "You not like the captain?"

"No, I think he's a very fine man."

"Because you shut down pretty bad every time I mention him," Mistoffelees said.

"Oh, I hadn't realized that," he murmured as he moved over to the cupboards.

"You don't do it when other's mention him, or when he's around," Mistoffelees continued, working out the fact as he spoke.

Coricopat shrugged, "I couldn't say."

Considering him, Mistoffelees turned to the packet. He understood the infirmary a great deal better now, having spent time there while healing. "This goes here, right?"

The doctor nodded, not quite looking at him, "Where are you from?"

That got a double take from the mechanic. "One of the border worlds," he said with a shrug. "Little out of the way dusty moon."

"What brought you on board?" Coricopat asked. Once he'd found a subject he just wanted it to keep going.

"I don't know, I could do things with the engine," the smaller man shrugged, frowning slightly. "Figured out what had them grounded a week and got offered the job. There was no work back home after all. What brought all this on? I'm sure your life would be much more interesting and glamorous."

"Well, it occurs to me I know very little about any of you."

Mistoffelees shrugged. "Don't know that much 'bout you either, except what percent of your class you were in."

"I'm from Osiris. Raised in a wealthy home, experienced surgeon. That's all there really is to it."

"Well all there is to me is growing up on a dusty world with machines talkin' to me then," Mistoffelees returned, not believing it in the least. He knew there was so much more to it, so there must be so much more to Coricopat too.

The doctor shrugged, "I'm sure you've more to say than that about your life?"

"It's all the amount you've told me," Mistoffelees returned.

"Did you leave family behind?" Coricopat asked, ignoring the point entirely.

"No," Mistoffelees said, suddenly paying much more attention to the supplies he was putting away.

That earned a long moment of silence, "I'm sorry."

The smaller man shrugged, still not looking up. "Thanks. It was a while ago though."

"Still. I...I can't imagine."

"You almost lost your sister," Mistoffelees said. "And you aren't in contact with your parents anymore, far as I can see. Besides, it was a while ago and every one had more than their fair share of things to deal with."

"...I suppose that's true."

Still looking down, Mistoffelees bit the inside of his lip. "Hard to cry about somethin' like losing your parents when the entire system is at war."

"War...you lost them during the wars?"

Mistoffelees nodded slowly. "Very start of it."

"How?" Coricopat asked.

"How do you mean how?" Mistoffelees finally glanced at him. "Dad, well, he liked helpin' people. They went off to try and get some medical supplies out to where a battle was goin'."

"Oh, Mistoffelees. They..." He shook his head slightly.

"It was a long time ago," he said again. "Over half my life time." For a moment his hands stilled on the supplies he was putting away. It was belay everything he said about time and distance if he started crying over medical supplies.

Coricopat paused before turning to the other and resting his hand on the other's shoulder, "Long time or not, they were your parents."

Swallowing, the mechanic glanced back up at him. "W-well, yeah."

Coricopat drew a deep breath, hesitating a long moment before drawing the other into a loose embrace, "It's alright to still be grieving them."

"It..." Mistoffelees blinked sudden wide eyes, pausing a moment before returning the embrace. "'m fine," he mumbled but didn't pull away.

The doctor's hand came up to the other's hair, "Certainly don't seem it."

"Most people let me lie to them."

"Well, that does you no good."

"Seems to have worked well enough," Mistoffelees returned.

"Would you prefer I let you lie to me?" Coricopat asked, tilting his head down.

"I haven't decided yet," Mistoffelees replied, pressing a little closer into the embrace. "Might be easier..."

The young doctor startled slightly at the fact that the other was even nearer, "Easier, but probably not healthier."

"And you only promote what's healthy, right?"

"As a doctor, I am bound to do so."

Laughing softly, almost bitterly, Mistoffelees stepped back. "I'll keep your prescription in mind. But I'm fine. Well, fine enough to put away medical supplies."

That earned a faint smile that didn't' quite meet Coricopat's eyes, "Alright, very well."

Looking down and biting his lip, Mistoffelees paused. "Thank you, though."

"Of course," the taller murmured.

Turning back to putting away supplies Mistoffelees felt his spine tense as he saw Mac stride in. "Hey," Mac started.

"I'm not speaking to you captain," Mistoffelees returned, not looking at him.

Coricopat glanced toward the captain and then back at the mechanic, "Can I help you, Captain?"

"No, I need my mechanic and have been looking over half the ship for him," Mac replied, sounding annoyed. "Have a job for you.  _Now_."

The doctor blinked slightly at that, but nodded, "I can finish up here, Mistoffelees."

"Alright," he said, offering Coricopat a smile but not looking at Macavity as he walked out. The captain gave Coricopat a long searching look.

"What?" He withdrew some syringes, putting them away.

"I would be very annoyed to find out if you were leadin' him on," Mac said.

"Leading...I'm doing nothing of the kind!"

"You ain't? Because there's a difference between what you're intendin' to do and what you're doing. See to it you're not toein' any lines."

"I don't know what you're talking about..."

"You did a second ago," Mac shrugged. "Look, just be aware where you're walkin', alright? I'd hate to see you hurt him, and the world of pain you would be stuck in for doin' so."

"I…understand."

"See that you do," Mac said, turning to leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your authors do so love it when characters come up with spontaneous back story in the middle of writing a scene...


	6. Unless We Question It

To say that the ballroom that Growltiger lead Griddlebone into was exquisite would not have done it justice. A floating chandelier hung over the golden room, and dancers moved across its floor like sparkling gems or butterflies.

Griddlebone smiled to another elegantly dressed woman, "Roberta, it's been too long." She had time for a brief kiss on the cheek as Growltiger escorted her around the room.

The man escorting her was dressed impeccably, to match the decor. "Half the men in this room wish they were on your arm tonight," he leaned in to murmur.

She smiled faintly, "Only half? I must be losing my indefinable allure."

"Hardly that. They all wish they were in your bed," he added with a smirk.

Grids glanced at him, half considering stepping away, "I'm looking for the boy with the honest modesty."

"And she blushes," Growltiger smirked. "That's rather rare for your profession, I must say."

She hesitated, "Shall we dance?"

He inclined his head, leading her out into the dance floor, focusing for a moment on the movements. "I'm trying to offer you something, you know."

She managed not to sigh, glancing down, "Growltiger..."

"You could live her, on planet, as my personal companion."

"You are a generous man."

He narrowed his eyes at her, spinning her. "That is hardly a yes."

"It's not a no, either." She glanced at the woman in the next couple, "You look lovely, Rochelle."

"You belong here," he said, pulling her back to him with a little bit of unnecessary force to get her to focus. "Not on that piece of crap ship."

She looked up at him with wide eyes, "Growltiger, language."

"What? It's a piece of shit and you should know it as well as anyone now."

She opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off by the porter's announcement, "Mr. Mistoffelees Quaxo and escort."

Griddlebone turned toward the entrance, away from Growltiger, "Misto?" She froze as she saw who his escort was, "Shit."

Mistoffelees strolled into the party, suddenly beaming brightly compared to his mood earlier. He had the suit from that afternoon on, and if possible it looked better on him than the model. Mac followed, stiffly stuffed into a suit he didn't look comfortable in. As they entered, he leaned close to Mistoffelees. "Does... this seem kinda tight to you?"

"Shows off your backside," Mistoffelees said, distractedly. "Did you see the chandelier? It's hoverin'!"

"What's the point of that, I wonder," Mac muttered, shifting his shoulders.

"They have mangoes!" Mistoffelees said, grabbing Mac's arm and pointing.

"I mean, I see how they did it. I'm just not gettin' the why," Mac continued talking about the chandelier, frowning up at it.

"Gosh, everything is just so pretty," Mistoffelees said, still looking around wide eyed and ignoring his captain's grumblings.

"Yeah, you are too," Mac nodded. "But be careful. We cheated Genghis out a lot of money to buy that frippery, and you're here to make me look respectable like."

"Yes, sir, Captain Tightpants," Mistoffelees chirped and Mac gave him a look between exasperated and fond.

"Okay, I'm lookin' for our guy."

"And Griddlebone," Mistoffelees protested. "We gotta say hi."

"If we see her. She might be wearin' gold," Mac said, looking around and trying not to focus on gold. He knew damn well what she was wearing and was trying to tone it down. "Now help me find out man. Stocky type, wears a red sash cross his chest."

"Why he do that?" Mistoffelees asked with a small frown.

"Maybe he won the Miss. Persphone Pageant," Mac deadpanned back. "Just help me look."

"Is that him?" Mistoffelees pointed to a table and Mac gave him another long look.

"That's the buffet table."

"How be we be sure, unless we question it?" Mistoffelees turned wide and laughing eyes up to his captain, who noticed the bowl of strawberries in the middle of it.

"I'm gettin' no help outta you til you've had those berries and said hey to Griddlebone, am I?" Mac asked.

"Probably not, Capt," Mistoffelees grinned.

"Shoo," Mac waved him off. "But don't make yourself sick!"

Mistoffelees moved over to the buffet table, awed at the riches it contained. The obvious choice was the strawberries, but there was... some sort of melted cheese too and it felt so indulgent as to be sinful. Picking a few strawberries up, he munched on them while watching the dance. He wanted to explain to someone how happy he was, but was unsure who or how to approach anyone.

A quartet of young women made their way along the edge of the dance floor, one of them pausing and looking Mistoffelees before turning her attention to the couples on the floor.

Shifting, Mistoffelees slid up. "Hello," he offered brightly, another strawberry gone and his hands now empty.

The leader of the group blinked at him, "I don't...um...have we been introduced?"

"Oh, Mistoffelees," he said, holding out his hand.

She eyed the hand, but shook it, "Banning. And this is Destra, Cabott, and Zelle."

"Isn't this fantastic?" he offered, nearly bouncing on his feet. "Everything's so pretty and there's some sort of cheese over there..."

"It's not as good as last year," Cabott tilted her chin up.

"Oh. What did they have last year?" he asked.

"Standards," she answered cruelly.

For a moment his eyes widened and he subsumed that quickly. "Who made your suit, Mistoffelees?" Banning asked, looking him over.

"Oh, do you like it?" he said, trying to brighten again but it was obvious he was wary of her. "I really couldn't resist it."

"You ought to see to your tailor."

"Oh? Why?" He glanced down quickly to make sure nothing was out of place.

"They're not very good. That suit looks like you bought it at a store."

"Oh," he said, blinking again but recovering more quickly this time. "I didn't know."

An older gentleman made his way over, having clearly heard the exchange, "Why, Banning Miller. What a vision you are in your fine dress. It must have taken a dozen slaves a dozen days to get you into that." He continued at the vain look she got, "Course your daddy tells me it takes the space of a schoolboy's wink to get you out of it again."

That was enough to cause Banning to stalk off in a huff, her posse trailing after her.

Mistoffelees blushed, turning to the gentlemen. "I only hope you would not say the same thing of me," he murmured, though somewhat thankful for the other's arrival.

He offered the younger man a smile, "Forgive my rudeness, I cannot abide useless people." He offered his hand, "Skimbleshanks, please call me Skimble."

With a grin, Mistoffelees accepted the hand. "Mistoffelees. There's not much good in useless people now is there?"

"I certainly have never seen any. I must say your suit looks very nice on you, do try to ignore Miss Miller."

"Thank you sir," he said, blushing faintly. "And I shall do my hardest to ignore her."

"Are you here with someone, lad?"

"Um," Mistoffelees searched the room, spotting Macavity clear on the other side. "Oh, he's over there somewhere. I'm really here to make him look respectable like, but I'm not sure how that's workin' on opposite sides of the room."

That earned a quiet laugh, "Well, if that's the case, you don't mind if I offer you a seat and some conversation then?"

"Can I bring the strawberries?" Mistoffelees asked with a grin and a slight tilt of his head.

"Some mangoes too if you like."

That got a broad grin from Mistoffelees as he followed the older gentleman.

s-s-s-s

Gus Prentiss nodded to one of the servers, who was circling the room with a plate of hors d'ourves, "No, thank you very much though."

"Beg pardon, might you be Gus Prentiss?" Mac asked, approaching him.

The gentleman glanced up at the other, " _Sir_  Gus Prentiss. The sash."

"The sash," Mac repeated, glancing at it but clearly not comprehending.

"It indicates lordship."

"And it's..." Mac clapped his hands together in front of him. "It's doing a great job," he emphasised the point with a shake of his hands.

Gus rolled his eyes and turned to walk off.

"Sir," Mac said, moving to catch up. ""My name's Macavity Hollister. I captain a ship by the name of Serenity. I mention this because I've been led to believe you have some property..." he noticed Griddlebone finally, dancing with her young man and lost his train of thought. Shaking his head, he looked back to the lord. "Some property you want to move off-world in a discreet manner."

Gus arched a brow at that, "You're mistaken, sir. I'm an honest man."

"Nothin' dishonest is getting our goods to people who need them," Mac said with a shrug, rolling his shoulders in the tight suit again.

"Whom do you represent?"

"Well, it's not represent in the strictest terms," the captain started.

" _Don't_  waste my time."

"Fellow called Genghis," Mac shrugged a little helplessly.

"I know him," the lord's voice evidenced how very unimpressed he was. "And I think he's a psychotic low-life."

"And I would say callin' him such is an insult to the psychotic low-life community," Mac deadpanned. "But the deal is solid."

That earned a faint smile. Gus opened his mouth to speak, but snapped it shut as he saw a couple approaching from the dance floor. Mac turned and stopped short when he saw Griddlebone approach with her man. Growltiger bowed to Gus. "Mr. Prentiss. I know you from the club I believe."

Griddlebone spoke, glancing from Mac to Growltiger and back, "Captain, this is Growltiger. Growltiger, this is Captain Macavity Hollister."

The men stared each other down for a moment and then Mac turned to Grids. "Why, Grids! Pleased ta see you. I didn't realize you were going to _this_ party."

"It's the  _only_  party," she replied, her expression never changing as Growltiger's grip on her arm tightened.

"And I can see why. How about that floatin' chandelier, huh? Have you seen Misto? He was keen to see you if you were about, but I think I lost him to the distractions of a well stocked buffet table and," Mac glanced over there and paused when he saw Mistoffelees basically holding court. "He's still over there if you wanna say hi." Even as he appeared to be babbling his eyes were on Growltiger's grip on Griddlebone's arm. "Growl, can I call you Growl? Grids talked about you. She made a point of mentionin' your generosity. Given that, I'm sure you won't mind if I ask her the favor of this dance?"

Glaring, Growltiger dropped his hold. "Of course," he said, looking unhappy.

Griddlebone glanced at Growltiger and then back at Mac before taking the Captain's hand so he could lead her to the dance floor.

Gus watched them go quietly, filing the entire exchange away to consider later. His gaze moved to the younger man still by him, "You're a brave man."

"I know what's mine," Growltiger replied promptly.

The lord looked skeptical at that, since that had been his entire point. He simply nodded, "Fair enough."

Griddlebone looked up at Macavity as they started into the dance, "Why are you here?"

"I think I actually know this dance," Mac remarked, focusing a moment on that. "Business. Same as you. Was talkin' a contract and you came walking over to me."

"You were staring at me," she replied.

"You stand out," Mac replied. "Been staring plenty at Misto too, doesn't mean much beyond keepin' an eye on my crew."

"In this company, you're the one who stands out, Mac. Even Misto seems to be settling into it well."

Mac spared a glance for him. "Fits in with all sorts of people. Besides, I'm curious to see you at work, as I never have before. So, is this the hardest part of your night or does that come later?"

Grids offered him a scowl at that, "You have no call to try to make me ashamed of my job. What I do is entirely legal. How's that smuggling coming?"

"My work may be illegal but at least it's honest," he said, catching her after a spin in the dance.

"What?" She looked up at him, clearly insulted.

"The lie of it," Mac said, voice dropping. "That man parading you around on his arm as if he actually won you, as if you actually loved him and everyone here goin' along with it."

"These people like me. And I like them." She paused, "I like Growltiger too, by the way."

"Well sure," Mac said, rolling his shoulders. "What's not to like? I'm all liable to sleep with him myself."

"And he likes me, whether you see it or not. He's made me an offer. You may think he doesn't honor me, but he wants me to live here. I'd be his personal companion. I could belong here. Call me pretentious but there is some appeal in that. In staying in one place, not having to rely on the whim of the skies."

Macavity just about stopped the dance. "Got no call to stop you," he said, voice dropping even further.

Her gaze flicked up to his face, "Mac...I…"

He looked away. "So, you haven't said hi to Misto yet? You plannin' on leaving he's gonna need to hear that from you."

"I haven't made my decision yet," Grids murmured.

"Still, should say hi. Before he got distracted he wanted to see you," Mac continued, even as he didn't stop the dance.

"I'll say hello to him before I leave tonight."

"Made quite a fuss about that suit. You might not be surprised what it cost but I was," Mac continued.

"I think he looks adorable."

"So do I, but you'll never hear me say it," Mac said with a fond smile.

"It was good of you to bring him as your respectable partner."

"He's having a time of it," Mac agreed. "Hell, he fits well enough here."

"And I'm sure he saw the strawberries at the buffet, too," she smiled.

"And decimated them," Mac said with a grin.

That garnered a laugh, "I expect nothing less."

s-s-s-s

Mistoffelees was standing, surrounded by a group of older men, and a few younger ones, all hanging off what he was saying. "I'm not saying the 80-04's hard to repair, cos it ain't, but it's not worth the fixin'." So far no one had out right comment on his accent.

"It's a fine machine, you just keep it tuned," one of the older men protested.

"No way," Mistoffelees shook his head. "The extenders aren't braced, which means it ain't gonna be nearly as effective as you want."

"I've been telling him to buy the 80-10 for years," Skimble supplied from where he was at Mistoffelees' side.

"If the tenders snap off, doesn't matter what the engine's cycling," Mistoffelees pointed out. "It's still down."

One of the younger men finally got a word in edgewise, "Mr. Mistoffelees, I wonder if I could request the honor of-"

Skimble cut him off, "Wait a minute, he's talking. Let him talk. Dance later."

That actually got through Mistoffelees' attention. "Dance?" Even if he hadn't heard the entire comment that word always caught his attention.

The youth smiled a bit triumphantly at that, "If you would do me the honor?"

He looked conflicted for a moment. "I'm sorry, I can't," he said. "But thank you." Part of him wanted nothing more than to dance-the other part remembered why he wasn't allowed to lift anything heavy-and another part he wanted to ignore told him it wouldn't much matter without a certain doctor on the other side.

That earned a sigh, "Alright...So you were saying about the engine?"

"I just, don't want my doctor any more annoyed at me than he already is," he floundered over an explanation, too quick to feel bad for ever telling someone no.

"Doctor? Is everything alright?" Skimble spoke the concern that was reflected in the expression of several of the others.

"Oh, yes," he said, leaning back slightly and offering them all a grin. "It was just an accident. Fully healing and everything. I would just prefer him not to ban me from lifting anything again... for the rest of my life."

That garnered quiet laughs and a few understanding nods.

He grinned, relaxed and happy in their company. "Oh, but going back to the 80-04... don't be fooled. The 80-10's the same machine, they just changed the paint and hoped no one noticed."

s-s-s-s

Macavity and Griddlebone continued floating around the floor, Mac nearly stumbling over one of the steps. "No, I still got it," he muttered, suddenly concentrating.

She laughed softly, "Are you sure? Perhaps we should see to lessons when I'm back on Serenity."

Mac's eyes flickered up abruptly to her face, some expression passing over it as Growltiger appeared, grabbing Griddlebone's arm and suddenly dragging her back. "Whoa," Mac snapped. "Watch yourself. Ain't no need of hands on."

"She's not here with you, captain," Growltiger returned hotly. "She's mine."

Grids startled at the sudden contact, her eyes widening as she avoided stumbling. She glanced from one to the other, focusing on neither for more than an instant.

"Yours?" Mac asked, voice dropping. "She don't belong to anyone."

"Money changed hands," Growltiger said, tilting his chin back and narrowing his eyes at Macavity. "And no matter how you dress her up she's still a-" before he could add "whore" Mac slugged him across the face, causing him to fall back to the ground. The entire party froze, all eyes turning to Mac, and Mistoffelees' face falling across the room.

Grids hand flew to cover her mouth as she looked at Mac, her expression between horror and concern, "Mac!"

"What? He was out of line," Mac shrugged as Growltiger pushed himself back up.

"I accept!"

"Great!" Mac yelled back. "Accept what?"

"There's been a challenge," the host of the gala spoke from where he had approached. Grids' gaze flickered between the men, before locking on Mistoffelees across the room.

"I hope you're prepared," Growltiger smirked.

"What? A fight? That's great, let's get it over with," Mac said, starting to pull his suit coat off.

Meanwhile, Mistoffelees glanced up at Skimbleshanks, quickly setting down the glass and plate he'd been holding. "I have to go, thank you so much for everything."

"It's not a fist fight, Mac," Grids murmured, her gaze still focused across the room as she stayed steady through force of will.

Skimbleshanks nodded at that, "If you're ever in port again, do let me know, it's been a good evening."

"Thanks," Mistoffelees offered him a suddenly strained smile, considering a moment before pulling out a napkin and scribbling something down on it, before handing it over. "If you ever want to send a wave," he said, and turned to weave his way through the crowd back to his captain.

Meanwhile Mac was blinking at Grids as the gentleman continued. "The duel will be met tomorrow morning at Cadrie Pond."

The captain blinked at him. "Why not now? I'm sure the guard over there collected a brace worth of pistols from idiots tryin' to get them inside here."

"Any gentleman here can give you the use of a sword," the gentleman continued, giving Mac a look.

"Use of a swo-what?"

Grids finally looked at Mac, offering him a look that held a good deal more fear than she would have preferred. Gus had made his way over some time during the exchange and now stood a couple steps behind Macavity.

Mistoffelees finally made it over. "What's goin' on?"

"Not rightly sure," Mac replied, glancing down at him.

Gus spoke, "Well, you'll be put up in lodgings for the night, so you don't disappear. I wouldn't blame you, incidentally. Growltiger's an expert swordsman. He's killed a dozen men with a long blade. You're the only one gave him a reason." He shook his head at the captain.

Grids spoke faintly, "He'll need a second."

"I'll take on the job," the lord offered, interested in seeing whether he had judged the man right earlier in the evening.

"This is a joke!" Mac declared. "Besides, the hells a second?"

"He fights if you refuse," the companion replied softly.

"That mean we're in business?" Mac asked, glancing toward him as Growltiger moved toward the door.

"Griddlebone!" the lord snapped.

"It means you're in mortal danger," Gus responded. "But you mussed up Growltiger's face, and that has endeared you to me somewhat. You might even give him a bit of a fight, before he guts you."

Grids glanced toward Growltiger and then back at the other three, "I have to be going. Good evening."

Mac opened his mouth to say something after her and snapped it shut just as quickly. Mistoffelees looked at her back as she left and sighed. "You know, up until this it was a real fine party."


	7. I Think He Knows Which End to Hold

Back on the ship, Tugger was doing pull ups with straps he had gotten Mistoffelees to put on the doorway for him after begging and wheedling for several months. He stopped at the sound of a knock on the metal door, picking up a rifle before moving over. Peeking through the window in the door, he sighed before pulling it open to admit Genghis.

Genghis strolled in, "Your captain's gone and got himself in a world of trouble."

"He tends to," Tugger said, moving over to call the rest of the crew.

The crew was assembled a few minutes later, eyeing Genghis, who was leaning against one wall near the door, "So the illustrious Captain Hollister's gone and challenged one of the best swordsmen on Persephone to a duel."

Pouncival blinked at that, "Wait, people still duel with swords?"

Coricopat nodded, but glanced at Jemi, "The captain's a good fighter. He knows how to handle a sword, right?"

"I think he knows which end to hold," Jemi replied, giving him a long look. After all, few people knew the Captain's fighting skills as well as she did.

The doctor hesitated, but nodded at that, "So we just need to figure out how to get him out of there."

Cohen glanced toward Genghis, "Do you know what lodging he's in?"

That earned an almost amused look, "This is embarrassing. You see, you seem to be misapprehending my purpose."

"You want to make sure we don't do what we're talkin' about doing," Jemima said, giving him a hard look. "You don't want us to save the captain at all."

"Always said you had a good head on your shoulders," he replied. "This here's my home. I've got to do business with the people here and I sure as hell don't want it known I brought in someone who caused this kind of a ruckus. We'll settle in 'til it blows over. One way or the other."

From the walkway where he'd retreated, Tugger cocked the riffle he was still carrying. "I wouldn't," Jemi said, not taking her eyes off Genghis.

"Why not?" Tugger demanded, angry. In reply Jemi motioned to where Mistoffelees had been led back to the ship by several of Genghis' thugs.

"Hi," he said with a small wave.

Coricopat had tensed at the sight of Mistoffelees, even as Genghis smirked. The businessman looked at the crew of the Serenity, "So, how about we all just sit down real quiet like, put up the guns and wait to hear from Macavity."

Scowling, Jemi nodded, moving back as Mistoffelees entered the ship, giving the henches a dirty look. "So what, you're gonna stand guard over us all night?" he asked.

Genghis shrugged, "If that's what it takes."

Mistoffelees scowled, moving over next to Jemi. He glanced back at Coricopat but didn't say anything else. Coricopat consciously drew his gaze away from Mistoffelees. He really didn't need to be focusing on the way the other looked in that suit at the moment.

Shaking her head, Jemi moved back through the cargo hold, setting up a table of crates and pulling out a deck of cards. She flashed it at the guards, as if daring them to tell her not to before sitting down. The rest of the crew paused, and it looked like Tugger was going to protest that he wanted to go sleep before they settled down around the table for the most part. Mistoffelees remained standing to the side for a moment, trying to settle enough to focus on anything, even cards.

Coricopat hesitated before moving over next to Mistoffelees and murmuring, "Up until this did you have a good evening?"

"Yeah," he said, and smiled at the thought of it. "It was actually pretty fantastic until the Capt decided his best bet was punching a guy in the face."

"Is everything alright with you and the captain?" Coricopat asked before he thought about it, his gaze studiously focused on Mistoffelees' face.

"Huh?" Mistoffelees blinked at him. "Whatta do you mean about between me and the Capt?"

"I mean the two of you sounded like you were having a fight in the infirmary earlier," the doctor's eyes trailed away to focus on the wall opposite.

"Oh, that was nothing," Mistoffelees shrugged. "I mean, he was being a jerk but he usually is. Just said somethin' stupid about wantin' nicer things from time to time."

The doctor nodded very slightly, "It didn't seem to go down well."

The shorter shrugged. "It was real stupid, But he made up for it, and it was nice."

There was a pause before Coricopat finally nodded again, "I see. I'm sure that smoothed things over well enough then."

"Yeah," Mistoffelees offered him a grin. "It was so pretty there. They had a floating chandelier and strawberries and... some kind of melted cheese." His eyes brightened as he spoke.

"I'm glad to hear you enjoyed yourself," the doctor couldn't help but smile, though he did rather want to brood instead.

"You must have gone to plenty of parties like it, even better," Mistoffelees said and paused. "I mean... do you miss it much?"

He shrugged slightly, "I suppose a little. It's...strange being ship-bound after so long in that life."

"It must be hard," Mistoffelees said softly.

"I think 'different' is a better word."

"I think it would be hard for me," Mistoffelees said. "To give a world like that up. Oh, I'm sure there are downsides and all sorts of things but... it's so glittery!" he couldn't help but laugh slightly at that.

Coricopat laughed quietly, "It rather is, though I suppose growing up in it you stop noticing just how glittery after a while."

"It's a beautiful world, at least on the surface," Mistoffelees said. "I don't know, even this business of the duel makes it look a little less pretty. And there wasn't entirely nice people there either. I mean, some of them were but... not all of them."

: "People can be cruel at all levels of life, but they tend to hide it the higher up they get, the better to manipulate."

"I don't doubt it," the mechanic offered him a smile, picking at the cuff of his suit, unused to wearing something like it. "Know plenty about the cruelty of the low, suppose it was time to learn about the high."

"I did want to tell you that the suit..." He paused before finishing almost lamely, "looks nice."

That got a blink from Mistoffelees, who finally broke out in a grin though it was a little hesitant. "Thanks," he said, a faint blush coloring his cheeks.

"Of course."

"Have... have you guys been having a good night, before this I mean?"

Coricopat shrugged, "Decent. Though I think Tugger cheats at cards."

"You just figured that out?" Mistoffelees asked with a grin. "He learned from Mac."

"I hadn't played him before," the doctor protested. "So if he learned from Mac I shouldn't play the captain either then?"

"Probably not if you want to win much," Mistoffelees said with a small nod. "Though, I think they cheat in an attempt to win against me but maybe that's a little arrogant."

That garnered another laugh, "Good to know."

"So long as it's clear  _I_  don't cheat," Mistoffelees smiled at his laugh, forgetting for a moment that his captain was possibly in deadly danger.

"I'll take your word for it."

"Please, I would never," Mistoffelees protested, but was still mostly joking.

The doctor smiled, glancing at the smaller man and then quickly away, "Good to know."

Pausing, Mistoffelees watched the others playing cards. "Coricopat... did you ever like dancing?"

That earned a long blink, "Dancing? Well it's never been my favorite activity, but I certainly wasn't entirely averse to it."

"Wish I could have tonight," Mistoffelees mumbled, looking across the hold and not at the doctor.

"You...didn't dance?" Coricopat looked at him in some surprise.

"I," he gestured down to his stomach. "Still hurts sometimes, thought it would be better not to."

"I...ah. It should be healed soon. Perhaps we could see about dancing then?"

"W-we?" Mistoffelees' head whipped around to blink at him.

He shrugged slightly, "If you don't think the captain would mind..."

"The Capt?" Mistoffelees blinked. "He has his own dances methinks. Besides, he might well see about usin' it as an excuse to turn Grids around again."

Coricopat looked at him, confused, "But..."

"But?" Mistoffelees tilted his head.

"Misto!" Tugger called. "Come play a hand already, would you?"

"But I thought you and the captain..." He shook his head, "Never mind. Tugger seems anxious to lose at cards."

"Me and the...?" Mistoffelees started to press but Tugger called again. "Well, I think I'll hold you to the idea of that dance," Mistoffelees flashed him a grin before stepping away.

Coricopat hesitated before moving over to join the others around the makeshift table as well.

"You that ready to lose?" Mistoffelees asked, sitting down.

"Naw," Tugger said, giving him a long look.

"We wanna talk about the captain," Jemi said, voice low even as she flicked a card out.

Mistoffelees sighed. "He said to lay low and he'd be back in the mornin'. Seemed pretty confident."

"Contingency plans don't hurt," Cohen remarked mutedly.

"Well, since we're all unarmed we probably ought to take them by surprise," Coricopat offered.

"Could lure one or two of them away, say to the infirmary, take 'em out quiet like and Genghis wouldn't know," Tugger said.

"Are you all serious?" Mistoffelees hissed.

"Only work if Genghis' attention was elsewhere," Tugger continued, as if he hadn't heard Mistoffelees. "We need a diversion." He paused. "Jems could get naked."

Pounce didn't even look up from where he was sitting on the floor with his head on his knees, vetoing Tugger while looking like he was asleep, "Nope."

"I could get naked," Tugger offered to a chorus of "no!" "What about Misto then?"

"No one's getting naked," Pounce answered, head still on his knees, though a slightly strangled sound from Coricopat got him to tilt his head to look at the doctor.

Mistoffelees gave Tugger a long look. "Not to mention, oi."

Cohen had started tuning them out, his gaze sweeping around the hold and pausing as he spotted Tantomile. He placed a hand on Coricopat's shoulder and nodded in that direction. The doctor's eyes widened and he rose, moving over to his sister, "Tant, you can't be here."

Tant looked up at her brother, giggling slightly. "They're all tiny," she was singing.

"Tant,  _please_ ," he whispered urgently, glancing toward Genghis and his men.

"No, you've gotta pull on something," she replied, still smiling at him. The rest of the crew had tensed, watching them.

Genghis finally turned and spotted her, "Who's this then?" He moved over, "Here, look at me. What's your story, love?"

Coricopat stepped between them, "She's just a...passenger."

"Yeah? Well then why ain't she talking? She got a secret?"

Tilting her head, Tant's posture changed and she took a step forward, accent suddenly changing to match Genghis'. "Sure, I got secrets. More than one. Don't seem like I'd tell em to you know, do it? Anyone off Dyton knows better than to talk to strangers." She paused, taking another step toward him and tracing the shiny bird lapel pin he had, running her finger down his lapel.

He blinked at her for a long moment, trying to form a coherent thought at that. His surprise was nothing on her brother's though. Coricopat gaped at his little sister, but managed not to say anything.

She continued smoothly, still in his accent. "You're talkin' more than enough for the both of us, ain'tcha? I've known dozens like you. Skipped off home early, running graff jobs here and over there. Spent some time in the lock down, but less than you claim to look tough for the other boys. And you're what? Petty thief with delusions of standin'?" She paused, meeting his eyes. "Sad little king of a sad little hill." Jabbing him lightly in the chest she stepped back.

Genghis opened his mouth to speak and then closed it again, finally managing a strangled "Nice to see someone from the old homestead."

"Not really," she said with a tilt of her head before turning to Coricopat. "Tell me if anyone interesting shows up." Turning with her right shoulder she flounced off back toward the passenger rooms.

Genghis gaped after her, "Who the hell...?"

"A passenger," Jemi replied, deadpan. "Just someone passin' through."

He shook his head, "Just see she stays outta here." With that he turned to return to his men.

Tugger looked back over at the other's. "That's exactly the diversion we coulda used," he murmured, Mistoffelees gaping after Tantomile.

Coricopat sat down with them again, offering Tugger a dark look at that. "What? You want someone to get naked or something?" Tugger replied lowly.

"No, but Tant isn't..." He shook his head, "No."

"Is she alright?" Mistoffelees murmured,

The doctor looked at the smaller man, "That entirely depends on what you mean by 'alright'. Physically? She couldn't be healthier."

The mechanic glanced back at him, winning the hand to Tugger's dismay without even looking. "And beyond that?"

"I don't know. I don't know what was done to her, so I have no idea where to even being to help her."

Looking after where she left again, Mistoffelees paused. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "But she seems to... be doing well enough."

Coricopat sighed, but nodded, "She's has here good days, I'm just hoping they're the more frequent."

The mechanic nodded and returned to the cards. "So, do we actually have any diversions?"

Pounce shook his head from where he was still seated on the floor next to the crate his wife was using for a chair, "Nope."

"Well, you're useful," Mistoffelees remarked, glancing down at him.

"Well, what do you want me to say? We don't have any distractions that Genghis won't figure are that. He doesn't trust us anymore than we trust him."

"So, we do what, sit here like dumbasses?" Tugger asked, looking down.

Pounce shrugged, "Yeah, guess so. At least for now."

s-s-s-s

Griddlebone rose quietly, wrapped a dressing gown around herself, and slipped out of Growltiger's chambers. She made her way purposefully through the halls, placing a door-handle to one of many doors in the hall she was in and entered. She paused to watch Mac for a moment before making her presence known, "Macavity?"

Someone had provided the captain with a sword, and he was practicing with it, and when she entered, he started enough to swing it into a pillar. "Gah!"

She shook her head slightly at that, "Trying to practice then?"

"Sorta," he said, stepping back and smoothing his hair down. "And what are you doin' here then?"

"He's a heavy sleeper the night before a big day." She replied, quietly, "He's got the killing in the morning and a haircut later..."

"Such a comfort, to have friends visit at a time like this."

"I knew the accommodations would be nice. Growltiger doesn't skimp," the companion still hadn't taken her gaze off of Mac.

"Such a comfort," Mac repeated. "Bein' all surrounded by luxury as I wait for what apparently everyone believes is my death."

Grids glanced down and away, "Well, then stop waiting. There's a back door. I spoke to the clerk earlier, he'll let us out."

That got a pause out of Macavity. "Excuse me?"

"I'm sure you heard me."

"You want me to turn tail and run away?" he repeated, anger seeping into his voice.

"I want you to  _survive!_ "

"I don't back down from a fight," Mac snapped.

"Mac,  _please_. He's an expert swordsman and I won't see you lie bleeding and dying at my feet."

"So you'd see me run away instead?" he said, crossing his arms over his chest. "So you don't even care about your own honor either then, to ask me to back away."

"How does you dying help my honor?"

"It's his death that's at stake here," Mac replied. "I've fought more issues, gone through more battles. You think a guy with a sword would scare me?"

"He should," she answered.

"And why is that?" Mac growled. "I can fight through wars, command two thousand men, and I have to run from a weapon outmoded centuries ago."

"Because you'll be fighting with that same weapon, and you don't know how."

"It can't be that hard," Mac said, pulling his sword from the pillar.

Griddlebone looked around a picked up a second practice sword, "Alright, if it's not that hard, come and get me."

He hesitated a moment before charging, swinging the sword down upon her.

She simply sidestepped him, slapping his rear with the flat of her blade as he passed, "How did I avoid you?"

"Sorcery?" Macavity offered.

"No, because you attack like you're chopping wood. You have to thrust with the point or swing from the elbow, not the shoulder."

"Feels stronger that way," Mac protested.

"It's also slower. You don't need strength, you need speed. It takes less than a pound of pressure to break skin," she lectured.

"Do I want to know why or how you know that?" Mac responded. "They teach you that at whore academy?"

Griddlebone scowled at him, "You have a strange sense of nobility. You'll lay a man out for calling me a whore, yet you continued to do so to my face."

"I don't respect your profession," Mac said, taking a step toward her and looking down. If either of them moved it would be intimate, romantic, and it would only take a press to turn the position into a kiss. "He doesn't respect you. I might not approve of sellin' your body to bidders, but I see who  _you_  are."

She dropped her gaze and tilted her head to look away fully, but willed herself not to move more than that, "My profession is part of who I am."

"It ain't all of it," he replied, the sound rumbling in his chest. "You're all sorts of things beyond a trophy."

She swallowed at that, "Well, it won't matter one way or the other tomorrow, if you don't figure out how to use a sword properly."

"So how do I use a sword properly then?" he asked, not stepping back.

"Never block with your wrist above your head, use your elbows and thrust with the point, don't swing from the shoulder. And for God's sake, never take your eye off of his weapon," she rattled off, still not looking up.

"We practicin' any of that then?" he asked, voice still low.

Grids swallowed hard before nodding very slightly, "It would be best."

"Then let's," he said, stepping back.

s-s-s-s

The next morning brought Macavity out to the park, Growltiger standing across from him. He glanced over at Griddlebone and Gus, pausing.

Grids drew a deep breath before offering him a faint smile. Gus glanced between the duelists and then at the woman by his side as the man overseeing the duel stepped forward and made certain each combatant was ready.

Macavity nodded, meeting Growltiger in the middle. "Think you know how to hold a sword?" Growltiger mocked.

"Thinkin' I might be able to figure it out as I go," Mac said, accepting the foil and actually giving a semblance of the proper posture.

Gus's brows rose at that, "I hadn't expected-"

Grids cut him off, "Mac's a showman. And a fighter. I only hope it's enough."

Arching a brow at that, Growltiger suddenly lashed out. Only years of instinct pulled Macavity back in time, and they settled into a back and forth. It was clear that Macavity was hard pressed, more comfortable with his fist or a gun than he was with his thin weapon that was still as deadly.

Griddlebone watched in horror, only hoping there was something that would make sure Mac got out of this alive, she continued to turn options over in her head even as the duel continued, visibly one-sided.

After several long minutes, Growltiger stabbed Macavity through the stomach. With a gasp, he went down on one knee and Growltiger put his foot down on Mac's foil, snapping it in half. Raising his sword and smirking, Growltiger prepared to deliver the final blow when Mac suddenly lunged, tackling him around the knees and getting stabbed in the shoulder for his trouble.

However, it meant he had Growltiger on the ground and he used his good hand to punch him in the face. Mac managed to get back on his feet before Growltiger could even attempt to, much more used to being injured as well as getting off the ground. Moving quickly he managed to get Growltiger's foil by stamping on the man's wrist, possibly breaking it.

Grids took a half step forward, but Gus lay a hand on her arm to stop her, "He's got to finish this, lass." He turned his attention to Macavity, "He's down. Finish it, lad. For a man to lie beaten and breathing? It makes him a coward. It's a mark of humiliation."

"Sure it is," Mac agreed as Growltiger glared up at him. "Havin' to lie there while the better man refuses to spill your blood. Don't you know mercy is the mark of a great man?" Pausing half a moment he stabbed the sword into Growltiger's sword arm. "Guess I'm a good man then." He moved down to stab the man's stomach, getting a cry from him. "Well, I'm alright."

Grids moved swiftly over to support Mac, "Come, let's get you home."

"There's a doctor there, right?" Mac said, stumbling.

"Griddlebone!" Growltiger called, pushing himself up, not quite as in much pain as Macavity.

She nodded, ignoring Growltiger as she helped the captain. Gus glanced at the loser of the duel, "You've lost her. Be gracious."

"You set this up, whore," he seethed. "I bought and paid for you. I should have beat up, made you ugly so no one else'd want you."

Macavity paused and tensed. "Do you notice me not punchin' him again? I think I've grown."

Griddlebone managed a thin smile, "And I'm quite proud of that growth." She spared a glance for Growltiger, but shook her head, "You're not even worth my time."

"Then you'd better get ready to starve! I'll make sure you never work again," Growltiger hissed, finally being helped to his feet by his second.

She stopped and fully turned to look at him, "That's not how this works. You've just earned yourself a black mark in the client registry. No Companion will ever contract with you again."

Gus couldn't help a slight smirk at that, "You'll have to rely on your winning personality in that case. God help you." he moved over to Macavity and Griddlebone, "You didn't have to wound him."

"No, but he deserved it. And it made me feel better."

"Well, if you're willing to fight that hard to protect my property I'll have it in your hold by midnight."

Arching a brow, Mac grinned and held out his hand. "Deal."

Gus shook hands with the other man and then bid them both a good day, leaving to see to what would be shipping out with Serenity. Grids glanced up at Macavity, "Let's get you back, and then you are following whatever orders that doctor gives you, got it?"

"Yeah, yeah," he said, wincing. "Am I allowed to say, ow, now?"

s-s-s-s

Having gotten to the ship, having gotten Genghis off the ship, and been patched up by the doctor, Macavity slowly made his way out to the walkway several days into space. He still hurt, and him and Mistoffelees were joking around the dinner table about matching stomach wounds, even if there was some desperation between them of how close they'd gotten to death recently.

Looking over his cargo hold, Mac sat next to Griddlebone. "Wine?" he offered her a bottle.

She glanced at him, offering him a faint smile, "Thank you. Did you happen to bring cups too, or shall I have to go fetch some?"

"Ta-da," Mac produced some collapsible cups he usually kept for special occasions.

That earned a quiet laugh as she took the cups and poured the wine. "How are you doing?"

"Healin'. Doctor's good at his job," Mac replied. "How... are you doing?"

She sighed, shrugging slightly, "I'm settling again."

"Didn't seem to take leavin' all that seriously," he said, not looking at her but over the hold.

"Did you honestly think I would?"

"I donno," he shrugged. "Glad you didn't. Someone's gotta keep an eye on Misto, especially with that doctor around," Mac said with a shrug, taking a gulp of the wine.

"The doctor's not as bad as all that. And if you had a decent pair of eyes between the lot of you you'd see he's not inclined to make the first move at this point anyhow."

Mac arched a brow at her and didn't comment. "At any rate," he said. "It's good to have cargo."

"It is. Was it worth it?" She asked quietly.

"I got stabbed!" he protested, pointing. "But, on the other hand, it's a job. It's a good job even. Despite being... a bit... loud," he added, looking down at the herd of cattle in his hold.

That earned a laugh, "It rather is. I have a new appreciation for the draperies in my shuttle." She sipped at her wine, glancing at him.

He returned the look a moment before looking away. "Glad you have somethin' to appreciate here."

She managed not to flinch at that, looking away as well, "That's not..."

"I know," he said softly and it was as close as he'd ever get to admitting anything. With that he pushed himself to his feet again. "Injured or not, there are captainy things to be done on this boat."

"Just take it easy, Mac. Don't want you laid up for longer than needed."

"I promise I won't be," he said with a grin before turning and striding away.

She watched him go before leaning against one of the railing uprights, sighing as she watched the cattle milling about below.


	8. It's Carved Into the Wood

Tantomile threw the medical bag away from her, glaring at her brother. "No! No, no no! I don't wanna go back!"

Coricopat moved cautiously toward his sister, "Shh, it's okay, Tant. Shh. You-"

"It's not okay!" she snapped back. "You can't shove in twenty needles into my eyes and ask me want I see, I'll go blind!"

He froze at that, backing up enough to shut the infirmary doors, with them still outside, "Look, look, we won't go in. No tests today."

"No rutting tests?" she demanded, glaring her brother and plopping down on the couch in the small sitting room outside the infirmary, kicking her booted feet before muttering something darkly that was intelligible.

He shook his head, moving carefully over to sit down near her, "No tests. No shots. I..." he hesitated, "I am going to give you a soother, just to help you calm a little."

In reply she stood, upending the bag he'd been trying to put to rights and swearing at him in a mix of several different languages.

"Oh for the love of...Tant!"

Macavity entered, pausing. Tant turned to glare at him. "You're not him," she said, muttering something else.

"So," Mac drawled, surveying the scene. "She's added cursin' and tossing things about to her repertoire. Truly a prodigy."

Coricopat glanced his direction as he tried to gather up the medical supplies again, "It's just a bad day."

"You know what's gonna be one of my bad days?" Mac paused and glared at them. "When her yelling spooks the herd. You ever see cattle stampede? Or stampede in a crowded space? It's like a meat grinder and looses us a lot profit."

"She hasn't gone near the cattle," the doctor grit out, casting a glance at his sister

"No, but her voice carries," Mac replied. "We're heading into atmosphere and they can probably hear her planetside. Soon as we unload, she can scream until our ears bleed, though," he glanced at the girl who wasn't looking at him. "I would take it as a kindness if she didn't."

"The human body can be drained of blood in eight point six seconds given adequate vacuuming," Tantomile murmured, flipping one of her hands around as she stared at the wall.

After a beat Mac turned back to the doctor. "See, morbid and creepifyin', I got no problem with, so long as she does it quiet like."

Coricopat got to his feet, finally turning to face the captain fully, "This is paranoid schizophrenia,  _Captain_. Hand-crafted by government scientists who thought my sister's brain was a rutting playground. I have no idea what'll set her off on her  _good_ days. If you have some expertise you'd like to share, then by all means do go ahead and be my guest."

"Ain't tryin' to do your job for you," Mac snapped. "Just keep her from stopping me doin' mine."

"That's what I was attempting to do,  _sir_ ," the doctor snapped.

"Then do it better," Mac said, turning and taking the stairs quickly to talk to Pounce, passing Mistoffelees on the way down.

Coricopat's hands clenched, but he willed himself to calm down as he turned to his sister, "Please, Tant, just a little soother, just 'til we get planetside."

She growled at him instead, still sitting on the red couch. Pausing, Mistoffelees glanced between them. "What's going on?"

The doctor spared him barely a glance, "You captain is of the opinion she's going to spook the cattle."

"Well, I gathered that," the mechanic replied. Tant paused, tilting her head at the shorter man.

"Nothing. A bad day. Shouldn't you be seeing to the engine room?" He knew he should be keeping his temper but he was still seething about his encounter with Macavity and the fact that at every turn it seemed his sister was simply getting worse.

"It's been seen to," Mistoffelees replied, stepping into the room and moving to the couch to sit next to Tantomile, who glared at him and shifted away. "What's wrong, hon?"

"Dress me up like a doll and expect me to sit pretty and proper," Tantomile seethed. Mistoffelees glanced at her brother with an arched brow, to see if that made any sense. "Expect me to sit like a doll with nothing wrong when there's pieces moving around inside."

"Did someone do something, today?"

She glared. "More sticking, more needles, more tests," the girl ground out.

Coricopat sighed, "She's been on like that all day. I've closed down the infirmary, promised no tests or needles today, and still..."

"Did you try to give her anything?" Mistoffelees asked, hesitating before trying to reach a hand out and take Tantomile's. She gave it a long look, but accepted the touch for the moment.

"A soother, but that's after she went off like this."

Mistoffelees mouth twisted. "It's still medicine," he murmured, glancing back at Tant. She'd started tapping a rhythm on the back of his hand with one finger. "But could you do it, hon? Could you deal with a soother?"

"I'm not a panicking child," she returned, angrily. "I don't need something to, to..."

"If it would help," Mistoffelees tried again. "Your brother's just trying to help."

The doctor finally got his medical case back in order, "It won't matter soon anyhow. We're almost on the ground. Just don't want your captain kicking us off for losing you all half your profit."

"He's your captain too, you know," Mistoffelees said, Tant still tapping across the back of his hand.

Coricopat focused on checking over the contents of the medical case again, making certain nothing was damaged as he answered begrudgingly, "I know."

The mechanic paused, looking at him. "Are  _you_  alright?" he asked.

"Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?" He glanced up, his expression daring the mechanic to contradict him.

"You ain't acting like it," Mistoffelees replied, jaw set. Tantomile let out something between a giggle and a snort.

"I'm fine."

Mistoffelees scowled. "Coricopat," he started and Tantomile glanced between them, having visibly calmed since Mistoffelees had given her his hand.

"What?" The taller man snapped, glancing toward his sister and then back at Mistoffelees.

When he snapped, Tantomile's shoulders and tensed. "Just," Mistoffelees shook his head slightly. "You're so worried about your sister," he glanced at her and gave her a small smile. "I wonder how much you're lookin' to yourself."

Focusing on relaxing and keeping his tone even, Coricopat shrugged, "I take care of myself just fine."

"No you don't," Tantomile replied, still looking at the wall and tapping.

His gaze darted to her, "I'm fine."

"You're a boob," she returned as the ship settled down on the ground.

He rolled his eyes, "I don't recall asking your opinion on that."

"Don't need to ask," she replied. "I'm your sister."

That finally earned a faint smile, "Thanks."

"For?" Tantomile titled her head, as Mistoffelees was trying to not intrude on this moment.

He paused at that, "Being my sister?" He'd been half sarcastic in his thanks and wasn't entirely sure how to reply.

"I can accept that," she said, nodding. Mistoffelees looked up when Macavity reappeared at the stairs.

"Do you have the list of things we need then?" the captain asked, arching a brow at Mistoffelees and Tantomile holding hands. "She seems to have shimmered down."

Coricopat looked toward Macavity, nodding a bit, "She has."

"Good," he said, glancing at his mechanic.

"Yes, I have the list and the budget," Mistoffelees replied. "I'm sure Grids would like the excuse to go out, we'll go together."

The doctor hesitated for a moment before speaking to Mac, "We're far from the Alliance out here, do you think it would be much trouble if Tant was to come off ship? I'd keep an eye on her."

Mac blinked. "Sure. Just keep out of the way like usual."

Coricopat nodded, glancing at his sister to see if she was interested in that idea. Something in her demeanor had perked at the idea, and she nodded slightly, wincing as Mistoffelees pulled his hand away to rise.

"Will you guys put the corral up then for the cattle?" he asked, "While Grids and I go to the border town?"

Grids came in behind Macavity, glancing at Mistoffelees, "We're going to the border town?" She looked at Mac, "Jemi wanted me to ask how you're planning to arrange the chute and corral to get the cargo unloaded."

Mistoffelees nodded as Macavity went off to find Jemi and Tugger. "Yeah, Mac gave me the shopping list, wanna go off?"

She smiled, "I think so, yes." She glanced at Coricopat and Tant, "Would the two of you like to join us or are you sticking around here?"

The doctor shook his head, "I think we'll stay near the ship for now."

"But," Mistoffelees started to protest and stopped. "If you would prefer."

Coricopat nodded a bit, "We'll see you later."

s-s-s-s

Shortly therefore, Tugger started herding cattle off the ship, having found a whip somewhere along the way. The corral clearly was hastily put up, but it looked like it would hold well enough. Coricopat picked his way carefully down the ramp, stepping around the cowpies that littered it. Cohen could be seen examining the corral with a critical eye.

Tugger grinned, snapping the whip at the cattle again. "They move just as well if you lead them," Mac said, watching the proceedings as Jemi sat with her husband on the metal gate.

"But I like smackin' them," Tugger returned, still grinning. "Misto and Grids already off then?"

"Had supplies to pick up," the captain said.

Pounce glanced at his wife, "So, my vote is next time we start dealing in black-market beagles. Who's with me?"

Mac raised a hand and went back to making sure all the ropes were fastened around the pen. Tantomile floated off the ship, looking around before sitting at the edge of the pen, next to a cow laying down. "Little soul, big world," she murmured. "Eat, sleep and eat... many souls."

Pausing, Mac looked her over. "Cattle on the ship over three weeks and she don't go near them. Suddenly we land and she's a drivin' need to commune?"

Tugger just shrugged, continuing to herd them.

"They weren't cows inside," Tant protested. "They were waiting to be. But they forgot. Now they see the sky and they remember."

That got a long blink from the captain and he looked back at Tugger. "Is it bad that what she said made perfect sense to me?"

"Oh hell yeah," his crew member returned. "I'll find an asylum to check you into."

Coricopat reached the bottom of the ramp, moving over next to his sister, "Come on, Tant, best to stay out of the way."

She shook her head, remaining right where she was. Mac stepped up toward Coricopat. "Can't herd them and your sister. You consider takin' her... elsewhere?"

"Elsewhere? Probably better to stay close all things considered," the doctor responded, having no desire to have another rousing fight with his sister.

"Yeah, well, there's a lovely town 'bout ten minutes that way," Mac pointed. "That's close enough. Because when a man engages in clandestine dealings, he likes things to go smooth. She makes things... not be smooth."

"I'm still not sure it's such a wise suggestion."

"We ain't leavin' without you. Go find Misto or somethin', I'm sure he wouldn't mind showing off the dust," Mac returned and went back to the herd.

The doctor watched him go before sighing, "Come on, Tant. Let's go see what this place has to offer."

Glancing up at him, she smiled, her body more relaxed for being on a world of living things again rather than the ship.

s-s-s-s

Grids strolled through the general store, shaking her head, "Is it me or does every supply store on every water planet have the same five rag dolls and the same wood carvings of...a duck?"

Mistoffelees turned from the parts he was considering and approached the statue. "Oh, it's a swan. I like it."

She arched a brow, considering it, "A swan?"

"Yeah," Mistoffelees said, stroking the neck. "It was made with real longing, you know. Probably by someone who just longed to  _see_  a swan, but the longing, the desire's there. It's carved into the wood."

"Perhaps they only heard of them by rough description," the companion finally determined.

Mistoffelees gave her a half amused, half exasperated look. "Yeah, but I can't blame them. Felt that way myself more than once. It's sweet they tried."

She glanced at him, offering him a smile, "Sorry, I tend to forget where we all come from. It's strange to think of not seeing a swan."

He offered her a smile. "You grew up in the core," he said, content with that explanation. "I didn't see a swan until after getting on the ship."

"I guess that's true. Swans were normal, if graceful."

"You're saying this isn't graceful?" Mistoffelees joked, still lightly touching the neck of the carving. "It's just, I don't know. I think it's weird, but lately I've been, I don't know, appreciating things like that more?"

"Things like swans? Like dances?" she asked, watching him carefully.

"Yeah," he said softly, stepping back. "Grace and longing and all that."

"This wouldn't have anything to do with a certain doctor, would it?"

"I wonder what else it possibly could have anything do with," he said, blushing slightly.

"Have you actually talked to him? I mean about things like that."

"I don't know," he shrugged. "I mean, he seems sometimes, like he might be? But then he always runs away in the conversation really fast."

"Well, you gotta figure he's worried about things, though what he may not even know," Grids attempted to rationalize and explain.

"Like, worried about what? I mean, I get his sister, I get the fugitive bits but... what's that gotta do with... well, me?"

She shrugged, "He's got ghosts in his past same as the rest of us. I'll bet you they contribute."

"But," Mistoffelees started to protest. "What's that got to do with talkin'? Or dancing? Or just relaxin'?"

Grids shrugged again, "I have no idea. I'm just saying it might be part of it."

"Or he's just not interested," Mistoffelees shrugged.

" _That_ I don't believe," she returned quickly.

"You don't?" he glanced back at her, something hopeful in his expression.

She reached up and ran a hand through his dark hair, "No. I don't. I don't think he'll admit that for a while, but I don't think he's not interested."

"But," Mistoffelees started to protest again, even as he leaned into the touch. He cut off when the door opened, turning.

Coricopat paused in the doorway, holding the door for his sister. His gaze was focused on Mistoffelees and Griddlebone, or rather on the hand Grids was drawing away from what looked like rather a tender touch. The companion turned, offering the doctor and his sister a smile, "Don't usually see the two of you this far planet-side."

"We're trying something different today," the brunet physician responded.

Tantomile drifted into the shop, looking around with big eyes and appearing to float around the area, examining it.

"Different is good," Mistoffelees said brightly, feeling suddenly guilty for talking so much about the doctor with him so nearby.

Coricopat watched his sister, finally letting the door swing closed, "Tant, be careful with that." She looked at him from where she was considering some farm tools and floated to another part of the store.

The doctor drew a deep breath and moved over to his sister, guiding her toward Mistoffelees and Grids, "Let's see what all's over here."

She gave him a dark look but followed easily. "I'm glad to see you about," Mistoffelees offered them a smile. "Might give you a chance to, well, have some fun."

"Fun, right, yes. Of course." The doctor looked unimpressed, picking up the carved swan and murmuring under his breath, "They charge money for this?" He shook his head, "I most assuredly consider this fun." He picked a decorative knife out of his sister's hands, "Of course it's fun, being forced to the ass-end of the galaxy. Getting to live on a charming wreck. And to eat molded protein. Oh, and let's not forget getting bullied around by our...captain. I can't think of a single thing more fun."

For a moment Mistoffelees just stared at him and Tant actually took a step back. "Wreck?"

Coricopat turned to look at him fully, "I..."

"Serenity's not a wreck," Mistoffelees said, body tense. "You act so high and mighty and like you know everythin' and maybe you know more than me about fancy things and stuff like that, but my ship ain't a wreck." He turned, as if to go and whirled back, Tantomile tapping against the counter as she wondered away from the group, missed since everyone else was watching Mistoffelees. "And I happen to  _like_  the swan." He stomped over, picked the carving up, stomped to the counter and dropped a few credits there, before stomping out with the carving.

Coricopat tried to form a sentence, but was cut off as Grids spoke, "Well done, Doctor. Well done." She swept out of the shop, going to catch Mistoffelees.

The doctor sighed, turning, "Tant, we'd better get back." He paused, looking around frantically as he didn't see her, "Tant?"

s-s-s-s

Cradling the swan statue that he was not entirely sure why he had, Mistoffelees looked around the street, trying to calm down enough to remember Mac's list.

Griddlebone hurried after him, "Misto, wait!"

He stopped, turning. "Oh. Hey."

"Are you alright?"

"Oh, fine," he said. "I mean, okay, not fine, but..."

"Are you going to be?" she asked, pushing a strand of her blonde hair that'd escaped back.

"Sure," he said with a shrug. "I mean, it wasn't unexpected."

She eyed him, "Doesn't mean you're telling me the truth."

"What wouldn't I tell you the truth about?" he replied, offering her a smile. "I mean, it's just..."

Grids slipped her arm through his, "You know I won't say anything to anyone."

"You'd better not," he murmured, looking down and keeping the carving in the other arm. "He called Serenity a wreck. I know it ain't anythin' fancy like he's used to, but if he thinks that of my home, what's he gonna think about the people that choose that sort of life?"

"Maybe he didn't mean it?"

"How can you think that?" Mistoffelees asked, looking up at her. "He wasn't jokin', you can tell. Why'd he say somethin' like that anyway?"

She sighed, "I don't know. Although I try sometimes, I'm no mind reader. He...may be stressed, it may be compounded, I don't really know."

"Why do people gotta be mean anyway?"

"Because, Misto, you're the exception not the rule. A lot of people  _are_  mean deep down. Some less deep than others."

"I can be mean too," he said, kicking the street as if this was its fault. "I just don't see the point in it."

"Exactly. Most people don't look at it like that."

"I don't want him to be mean," Mistoffelees murmured.

"I know, Misto. I'm sorry. Surely..." She sighed, "Maybe he still needs time to settle in?"

"It's been," Mistoffelees started and shook his head. "A while."

"It took me time, too. And I had chosen to come on board to begin with."

Sighing, he leaned his head against her shoulder. "Okay..."

"And we'll all be here for you as much as you need us. You know that, right?"

Mistoffelees smiled up at her. "Yeah, I know that. I'm sure Mac would blow a gasket and Tugger would kindly ask which knee cap I wanted broken first. I know that's not exactly what you meant but... I know you're all there for me, in your different ways."

She rolled her eyes, "I think we'll take care not to mention this to Mac and Tugger."

"Good," he said, starting to relax and glancing down at the swan. "Nor about why I bought this then. But... I've found the best family in the verse," he said, looking back up. "And I know it."

Grids leaned down enough to kiss his temple, "Well, I might have some paints if you'd like to brighten the swan up at all, but it's a reminder of hope, alright?"

He titled up into the touch. "I don't know," he said, holding it up. "I think I like it like this. It's still not quite finished this way, waiting still. It's hopeful."

She smiled softly at that, "Very well. If you ever change your mind, you know where to find me."

That got a chuckle out of him. "I would hope so..."

Grids glanced away, thinking about the conversation she'd had before the fiasco at the party on Persephone.

"Everything alright, Grids?"

"I...yeah. Everything's dandy."

"Dandy is only used sarcastically..." he returned, flicking his black hair out of his eyes.

"Just thinking what an idiot each and every person is capable of being at some point or another." She paused, "You know I wouldn't leave, right?"

"Oh, well, yeah," he said. "I mean, yeah to idiots and yeah to you not leavin'. At least, I really hope you're never planning on leaving. But who's the idiot?"

"Do you ever think I bait Mac too much? Sometimes I think I might."

That got a long blink. "Well, probably. But he sorta leaves himself open for it."

"Do you think he knows I won't leave?"

"I think he's just scared that you might," Mistoffelees returned, voice soft.

"I had an offer on Persephone," she said after a moment's hesitation.

"Was it the man you were there with?" Mistoffelees asked. "The one that just about tried to kill the Capt?"

She nodded very slightly, "Yes."

"Did you ever consider takin' it?" he asked, looking up as they turned toward the other shop in town, which actually was more likely to have what they were looking for.

"Briefly, but not really seriously. There's some part of me that's tempted by the thought, but on Serenity I have a home and family."

"Certainly pretty there. And there were some nice people at least, but I'm glad non-the-less you're stayin'," he said, sliding his arm from her's to open the door. "Did I mention I got a wave from Skimbleshanks the other day?"

"No I don't believe you did." She stepped into the shop, "How is he doing?"

"Good," Mistoffelees said. "Charming. It's nice to have someone to actually hear from, you know?"

Grids smiled faintly, nodding, "I do know."

"I mean, as much as I love all of you, to hear from someone outside thtat, to hear of another world... it's nice. And he actually gets my references to mechanics. I still haven't told Mac though..." Mistoffelees mused, running a hand over some of the merchandise and nodding to himself.

Grids chuckled, "Well, as long as Pounce knows that the transmissions are safe you can probably go without telling Mac for a bit longer."

"Oh good. Do you think if I told Coricopat I was in secret communication with someone he might notice me?"

"Misto..." she shook her head, "I think he already notices you." Mouth twisting, he didn't comment on whether or not he felt it was the right kind of noticing. "Do you know what jealousy is?" she added after he didn't quite answer.

"Of course I know what jealousy is," he said, giving her a sideways look.

"Are you sure you really want to create more in him?"

"You think he's jealous?" Mistoffelees asked, head going back slightly as if the idea had never occurred to him. It actually hadn't.

"I think he's more than capable of it if he isn't already."

For a moment it looked like Mistoffelees might protest again but he just nodded. "If you say so..."

"So it might be best not to make that worse?"

"I'll do my best," he said, not quite rolling his eyes.

s-s-s-s

Back at the ship, Macavity made his way down the ramp, weaving through the cattle droppings. "I believe I heard an idea regardin' black market beagles. They have smallish droppings, correct?"

Heading back up to the ship, Jemima nodded. "I believe so, sir. Also, your disreputable men are here."

"Better go take their money," Mac declared, hooking his thumbs at the bottom of his suspenders.

Two men, whose close resemblance led to the belief that they were likely related, were standing by the corral, examining the cattle.

"Mornin', gents. I'm assumin' you're the Grange brothers then. I hope you're in the mood for some beefsteak."

"They ain't well fed. Scrawny," the eldest of the two Granges responded.

"Excuse me?" Mac said, affecting offense.

"There are some attractive animals," Tugger protested and Mac silenced him with a hand.

"They've had milk and hay, three times a day. Fed to them by beautiful women."

"Right. Sure." The younger brother shook his head, "They's branded."

"Fresh brand's a dead give away," Mac replied. "This makes it look like they've been yours longer."

"Twenty a head," the eldest offered."

"Funny, in light of the fact we agreed on thirty a head," Mac replied.

"That's afore I seen 'em. They're atrophied, standin' around ona ship for near a month."

"Far as I understand, the less muscle the more tender," Mac shrugged.

The man shook his head, "Twenty."

Cohen spoke under his breath from where he was leaning on the fence near Mac, "Problem?"

"No," he said, leaning back and watching as the two brother's suddenly moved back to start talking. "We'll agree on twenty-five in just a minute."

The two brothers startled at a noise in the bushes, their hands going to their guns. Shepherd Cohen glanced at the captain, "They seem a mite jumpy to you?"

Mac sighed, and shrugged again. "Nothin' too bad. Considerin' our illegal dealin'."

The brothers turned back finally, the oldest speaking, "I'm thinking we just walk away entirely."

"Thinkin' you do that and we have trouble, of the you owe us sort," Mac said, taking a step toward them. He paused long enough to glance over, seeing Mistoffelees and Griddlebone return, trying not to arch a brow at the swan carving.

"Well," the older Grange seemed to consider, "I suppose we could go twenty-five."

"Well, we'll be takin' a loss," Mac said, looking them over. 'But you seem like clean and virtuous boys. Done." The boys looked anything but clean or virtuous, wearing old clothes with holes and covered in dirt, but a job was a job and Mac really just wanted to get paid.

As the eldest stepped forward, a bag of money in his hand, a posse of lawmen burst from the brush with their guns drawn, " Marcus and Nathaniel Grange! You are wanted in connection to the illegal killing of Rance Durbin. You are bound by law to stand down!"

Holding his hands up automatically, Mac glanced at Tugger. "I'm startin' to find this entire planet all sorts of uninvitin'."

"I hear you there," Tugger murmured, his own hands up.

The sheriff nodded to his deputies who quickly moved to each of the men and removed their gun belts, dropping them on the ground out of reach.

"Careful with that!" Tugger protested.

"We seem to have a sort of a situation here," Mac said, eying the sheriffs.

"And who are you?" The head of the posse asked.

"Just a bystander," Mac said, offering a charming smile.

"This your beef?"

"Nope, it belongs to those two gentlemen over there," Mac said, pointing to the brothers.

"Mhm," he looked almost skeptical, but turned to the two brothers. "I'd like to see some papers on that cattle." The younger of the brothers moved quickly, slugging the nearest lawman and stealing his pistol, leveling it at the sheriff.

Mac and Tugger dropped at that, trying to inch their way toward their gun belts. "Never goes smooth," Mac snarled. "How comes it never goes smooth?"

Bullets started flying as the eldest grange got a pistol as well, the two brothers firing to cover their escape.

Finally getting ahold of the guns, Mac and Tugger started beating a hasty retreat. Up on the ship, Jemi perched herself to oversee the entire area, working on picking out either of the brother's. Inching his way along the corral, where the cows were moo-ing quite loudly and looking like they wished they could stampede. Moving quickly, Macavity went to tackle one of the brothers, knocking the gun out of his hands.

The posse closed in quickly once one of the brothers was unarmed and the other was bleeding from a bullet to the shoulder of his stronger hand. They made short work of cuffing the brothers and hauling them off with barely a nod to Mac and his crew.

"And good riddance," Mac muttered, kicking the gravel after them. Checking to make sure he had the money safely in his pocket, he turned and froze. Cohen lay on the ground, bleeding from a wound in the chest.


	9. Everything that Matters

Coricopat hurried out of the general store, looking about frantically for his sister. He took off after her once he spotted her entering an alley down the street. Moving quickly but carefully he emerged from the alley into a large field with a pavilion in the center of it. A crowd surrounded the pavilion and the doctor scanned it quickly. Seeing his sister there he started across the green.

Moving slowly, like she was under water, Tantomile weaved through the crowd. She looked up at the stage, where some of the townspeople were holding a dance. Tilting her head, she moved up onto the stage, the dancers moving around her. Several of them whistled at her, and she looked for a moment like she was confused as to why they were there.

Eyes dropping down she watched their feet a moment, and just when things looked the most confusing she began moving in exactly the same rhythm, flowing into the dance. One of the men caught her up as a partner as they moved around the circle.

Coricopat reached the crowd, his gaze following his sister through the dance. A smile slowly spread over his features as he watched her enjoy herself, relaxing as she did.

She flowed into the dance like she belonged there, laughing as the dance moved along.

Her brother's attention was fully focused on her and he didn't notice the men who approached him from behind until they yanked a bag over his head and dragged him, struggling, away from the crowd and dancers.

Missing a step, Tantomile froze among the dancers, and for a moment it was hard to figure out why she was stopping. Once she noticed her brother missing she let out a small cry, suddenly feeling overwhelmed by the crowd. She couldn't figure out where Coricopat had gone, hopping down the stage and looking frantically for him.

s-s-s-s

Macavity crouched over Cohen, trying to figure out the extent of the wound and what he could do. "Hey, hey! Stay with me, Shepherd."

The preacher tried to draw a breath, but it came out as more of a wheeze, "That's...quite a lot of blood..."

"Just means you ain't dead yet," Mac assured. "Tugger! Stretcher!"

Tugger had been looking at where the sheriffs were leaving. "They just goin'?"

"They got what they came for," Mac replied. "Do you mind getting Jems and the stretcher or do I gotta do it?" Shaking his head as if snapping out of something, Tugger ran back toward the ship.

Cohen blinked slowly, fighting to keep his eyes open, "I'm afraid...I might be needing a preacher myself."

"Not nearly at that point yet," Mac said as Tugger came running down with the collapsible stretcher. "Come on, let's get you back up."

Breathing was growing more difficult and Cohen focused on each breath and heartbeat as the other two men got him onto the stretcher and into the ship.

"What's going on?" Mistoffelees said, approaching and freezing. "That... that's a lot of blood..."

"It don't look good," Tugger agreed as they reached the infirmary, setting him down on the table and taking the stretcher out from underneath him.

Mac stalked over to the intercom. "Pounce, get down to the infirmary." He turned back to the room at large. "We gotta stop this bleeding."

Pounce arrived, a step behind his wife, in the infirmary, "You called, C-" he broke off, his gaze moving to the preacher.

"Get into town," Mac snapped, Jemi moving quickly to start working on a field dressing. "Find that stupid doctor! Do it now!"

The pilot nodded once, turning on his heel and taking off for town.

"Hurry," Mistoffelees said softly after him.

s-s-s-s

Coricopat stumbled, briefly grateful that the bag had been yanked off of his head a minute or so before. He was having a hard enough time being herded without the added inability to see. He glanced at his captors, his brain working quickly, "Where are we going?"

"Aw, shut up," one of the people who had captured him returned.

"Look, if it's a ransom you want, I...can arrange something." Though what he could possibly arrange with his assets frozen he didn't know.

"No talking," one of the hill folk responded, brandishing a fist at him as if to imply he'd be hit if he spoke again.

The doctor ignored the implicit threat, "You don't understand. My sister..."

The hill folk turned, slugging him across the face and knocking him down. Hauling him back up, they continued along their path. As they were walking, a flash of bright color was seen through the trees, Tantomile approaching. "Found you," she said, grinning, triumphant at the idea.

Coricopat paled, twisting away from the hill folk, "Tant, run!"

"But," she frowned, not moving. "I found you."

He finally yanked fully away from the men, dashing to his sister, "Now, Tantomile!"

The hill folk simply moved quickly to get him again. "Bring the girl," the leader snapped.

The doctor struggled, "No! Damn it let her go!"

Tantomile looked at the man holding her, tilting her head as if considering something before nodding. "I go where my brother goes," she said.

Coricopat froze at that, staring at his sister, "Tant..."

She just offered him a serene smile. He wilted slightly at that, allowing himself to be herded to God only knew where.

s-s-s-s

As Pounce came back up the ramp on the mule, Mistoffelees rushed out to greet him. "Where's the doctor? Why ain't they with you?"

The pilot swung off of the mule, "He wasn't in town. Couldn't find him anywhere."

"What do you mean?" Mistoffelees protested. "I know exactly where they were, I can show you, we could…could trace where they mighta gone…"

"Misto. Town ain't that big. Believe me when I say he wasn't there," Pounce spoke firmly.

"But where could they have gone?" Mistoffelees asked, panic in his voice as Mac strode up.

"No doctor?"

Pounce shook his head, "No sir."

Grids spoke from where she was standing on one of the balconies, "You don't think they were arrested?"

"Probably worse." Pounce answered, "I checked the sheriff's office, just in case. Seems if we'd checked the posted alerts we might've known that settlers in the hills take people sometimes. Usually tradesmen."

"And now they have a doctor," Mac said, voice deadpan. "And we don't. Pounce, get the ship in the air."

"What?" Mistoffleees whirled on the captain. "You can't be serious!"

"You think I ain't serious?" Mac asked his mechanic, giving him a long look and Mistoffelees' breath caught, spine straightening under the look.

"Capt," he started.

"Don't want to hear it, Misto," Mac said shortly. "We lost two people today, I'm not losin' a third member."

"We don't have to lose any of them!" Mistoffelees protested.

Pounce glanced between them but headed for the cockpit as Grids moved down to stand by Misto, "Misto...the shepherd's dying unless we get him help now."

"Where are we gettin' that help?" Mistoffelees asked, looking square at the captain. "We're too far away to get anywhere in time."

Grids drew a breath, "Mac, the Magellan far out..."

"The Alliance?" Mac snapped, eyes narrowing.

"Unless you want to go find Coricopat and his sister now, it's your best shot. The next nearest planet with any medical facilities capable of handling this is Greenleaf. We both know that takes at least ten hours."

Mac scowled and glanced at his mechanic once before stepping toward the comm. "Pounce, we're contactin' the Magellan."

The ship was already humming to life as the pilot's voice came back over the comm, "Captain, I ain't sure I heard you right."

"You want the Shepherd to die?" Mac snapped. "Intercept course. Now."

"Setting an intercept course and radioing ahead," Pounce responded quickly.

s-s-s-s

Tantomile trailed after the hill folk and her brother, the one that had originally been holding onto her having long since given up. "We're lost in the woods," she said, voice quiet.

Coricopat glanced at her, offering what he hoped was a reassuring smile, "It'll be alright. They'll find us. Once the Captain realizes what happened, they'll come."

The hill folk leader rolled his eyes and stopped when he noticed a roar, and the entire group looked up to see Serenity rising from the forest. The doctor paled at the sight. No, they couldn't be leaving. Not... He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath before opening them again to look at his sister.

She tilted her head at him, a slight frown between her brows but otherwise not reacting. The hill folk leader just laughed. "See boy? No one's coming for you."

With that he started pushing Coricopat again.

Eventually they reached a bridge, leading them into a small, decrepit looking village. "Look what we got!" the leader called out as the hill folk gathered. Universally they were wearing shades of brown and grey. "A real doctor!" He glanced at Coricopat. "Now stand up straight here."

One of the women spoke, "They finally brought a doctor, thank the Lord." The hill folk gathered, causing Coricopat to take a half step back before he and his sister were ushered through them and into the makeshift hospital the village had set up.

The man who had kidnapped them led Coricopat regally into the place, showing it off. "I don't figure it's as fancy as you might be used to, but it's what we got here." He looked up as a dark-skinned woman approached. "I got you a doctor."

"Oh, praise the lord," Doralee said, beaming at the pair as Tant looked around, expression distant but eyes taking in details.

Coricopat's gaze swept over the place, thinking how many improvements could be useful, but he didn't even have his medbag with him. Who knew what sort of medicines these people had. He shook his head after a moment, "It will do." Considering the number of occupied beds he hesitated, "Has there been...Is there a sickness here?"

"Nothin' special," she replied. "Just people get sick or injured. Mostly people heal on their own but..." she shrugged. "What's your names then?"

He watched the man who had brought them in leave before answering, "Coricopat. And this is Tantomile." He turned to his sister and nodded toward a bench, "Tant? Perhaps its best you sit down, over there." His gaze roved over the ill and injured, mentally finishing the woman's trailed sentence. The doctor nodded finally, "Bring me a light, and any supplies you have." Nodding, she went to comply with his requests.

s-s-s-s

Mistoffelees sat on the red couch outside the infirmary, staring at the swan carving he'd dropped earlier on the table. His hands were crossed under his chin, but he looked up when Jemima stepped out of checking on Cohen. "Is he...?"

"He's stable enough, for the moment," Jemi sighed, running a hand through her hair, sparing a glance for the carving.

"It just don't feel right, leavin' them like that," Mistoffelees said. "They coulda been injured too and we wouldn't know."

After a moment, Jemi nodded. "What the captain says, we do though."

"I know," the mechanic sighed. "Don't mean it feels right sometimes is all. But we're headed for help now, right?"

"The captain will come up with a plan," Jemi nodded.

"That's good, right?" Mistoffelees asked, eyes hopeful.

"Perhaps you're not recallin' some of the captain's previous plans," Jemima replied.

That got a small smile from Mistoffelees as Mac appeared down the stairs. "Alright, we're getting ready to be boarded," Mac said. "Everything tucked away where it should be?"

"Anythin' they shouldn't see," Jemi said. "Which ain't much at this juncture."

"Which is a blessing in all sorts of disguises," Mac said and glanced at his mechanic. "We need to get the Shepherd on a stretcher and out where they can see before we dock. Fetch Tugger, would you?"

Rising, Mistoffelees left and Mac gestured to the carving with a questioning look at Jemi, who just shrugged.

Moments later they had Cohen out on the floor on the cargo bay, as Jemima walked forward to open the depressurized doors, the crew standing nearby. "You sanguine about the kind of reception we're like to receive on an Alliance ship?" she asked, looking back at Mac.

"Absolutely," he said, firmly and paused. "What's sanguine mean?"

His first mate just looked at him and rolled her eyes. "Hopeful. Plus, point of interest, it also mean bloody."

"That just about covers our options," Mac agreed, rolling his shoulders and bracing himself as Jemima pulled the doors open.

Alliance soldiers entered, each and every one of them well armed and wary. Their commander was the last through the doors, "What's your business here?"

"Requestin' aid," Mac said, hands up slightly to show they were empty.

"We got papers," Jemi said, stepping forward and handing them over.

"We're a supply ship," Mac continued. "Free lance. Had an accident this morning, crewman got hurt."

"We need medical help," Jemi added to make it clear.

The commander looked over the papers, "Your official seal's out of date, Captain...Harbatkin?" He arched a skeptical eyebrow at the name.

"Ain't been through a check point in a while. You going to see to my man?"

"How did it happen?" He glanced toward where Cohen was lying.

"Bystander in a gun fight," Mac replied calmly and Mistoffelees swallowed hard. "Back on Jiangyin. You can check. Neither he nor ours were the aggressors."

The commander shook his head, "We aren't an emergency facility. Our services aren't available to simply anyone."

Cohen winced, before managing to speak, "My...ident card...com...mander."

One of the officers moved over and located the shepherd's ident card to run it through a scanner. He blinked at the scanner and offered it to the Commander who tensed, snapping out a quick order, "Get this man to the infirmary at once." Two of the other Alliance soldiers moved to pick up the stretcher, carrying Cohen off Serenity and onto the Magellan.

The crew of the Serenity blinked at that, but were hardly inclined to argue.

s-s-s-s

Coricopat had been working since his arrival to do what he could to help the hill folk. Sending the latest patient out with strict orders to keep the bandage clean he sank down into a chair at the table in the center of the room, "Good God..."

Doralee approached. "We have a house made up for the doctor, if you like it. We've been looking for one for some time."

The doctor looked up at her, sighing, "Every kindness shown. Not exactly what I expected when I was kidnapped."

"The lord says to judge not," she replied, giving him a long look.

"They took us off the street!" He snapped in response.

"Sometimes life takes you places you didn't expect to go."

"Life didn't bring us here. Those men did."

"Well, what sort of a ship were you on?" she asked. "A transport ship? Taking a journey. It's the way of life in my findings that journeys end when and where they want to, and that's where you make your home."

"This isn't our home," he replied firmly.

"Then where is?" Doralee asked.

"On that ship. There's...people there who care for us. Who...we care for."

"Really?" she didn't look convinced. "You don't seem so sure and they left without you. Your journey ends here."

"That doesn't make this home," he replied sharply.

"What makes a home then?"

"Somewhere you're cared for...loved even. Somewhere that you love someone."

"And you think yourself incapable of finding someone to love here?" she asked. "You have your sister, do you not?"

"I have my sister, but it's not the same..."

"The same as what?"

"It's a different sort of love, entirely."

"And you're still so sure you'd be incapable of finding it here?" she asked, considering him.

"Can't find what you don't want to look for."

She blinked. "You say you need love to be home, and yet have no desire to look for it?"

He looked away, "Have you ever thought yourself to be in love?"

"Once, but what does that matter?"

"I think I'm in love. I can hardly turn around and attempt to fall for another."

"Is that why you resist staying here so much?" she asked.

He hesitated before nodding, "I suppose it is."

"Seems a selfish reason to resist helping people who need your expertise."

"I didn't ask to be brought here and I'm treating them aren't I?" He replied sharply, his grey eyes narrowing.

There was a brief scuffle and Doralee rose to deal with it.

Just then there was a tap at the back door of the small hut. Coricopat hesitated but rose and answered the door. Tantomile offered him a bright smile, holding the front of her skirt up, red berries nestled in its folds. "For you."

He offered her a smile in response, a little unnerved that he hadn't noticed her absence, "Come on in, let's find a bowl so you don't stain your dress."

She moved with him, dumping the berries into a wooden bowl before picking one up and pressing it toward his face. "You have to eat. Keep you your strength."

"I'm fine, Tant," he protested, but accepted the berry regardless. The older sibling smiled again after a moment, "Hodgeberries. Do you remember when we found those giant bushes of them on the Cambersons' estate?" He hesitated, his smile fading a bit, "It was a long while ago."

She tilted her head, eyes turning sad. "I took you away from that..."

He shook his head, "No."

"I know I did," she protested. "You don't think I did but I know..." she paused, shaking her head. "I get confused. I remember everything. But it's out of place. And then I remember too much... and... and some of it can't be quantified, and..." Tant's voice was pitching higher without rising and she looked almost on the verge of tears. "And there's secrets and..."

Coricopat moved to her, taking her hands, "Tant, it's alright. It's going to be alright."

"But I understand," she finished, looking up to meet his eyes. "You gave up everything you had to find me. And you found me broken." For the first time since that morning she looked lucid, entirely grounded. "It's hard for you. You gave up everything you had."

He paused at that, there was some truth to her words, but he finally shook his head again, "Mei mei, everything I have is right here in front of me. Everything that matters."

"Not everything," she said softly, eyes going a bit distant again. "But eat. We won't be here long. Daddy will come and take us home." She pushed more berries toward him.

Her brother picked up a couple of the berries, trying not to think about what his father had told him the last time he'd gotten in trouble for trying to help his sister. Their father wouldn't come for them, and neither would Serenity. They were well and truly stranded. Nibbling on the fruit he offered his sister another smile, "These are better than the Cambersons' berries."

"They are," Tant agreed. "Which is why it's too bad they're poison."

The doctor spat the berries out, his eyes wide and his expression laced with panic, "Wh-what?"

"You made a face," she giggled.

He relaxed slightly, grinning at her, though it was more in relief than anything he found incredibly humorous, "You are such a brat!"

She just giggled again as Doralee led a quiet girl to a bed. "Now, go to sleep, Ruby," the dark skinned woman was trying to sooth her.

Tilting her head, Tantomile considered the girl. "Her sister got killed. Mother got crazy and killed the sister. That one lived."

Coricopat's gaze darted from his sister to the child and back. He'd seen the girl throughout the day, but was certain she hadn't spoken in his hearing.

Eyes widening, Doralee turned to her. "Ruby talked to you honey? It's true," she said, looking at the doctor. "What she said. Sweetheart, you are an angel for getting Ruby to talk. No one's been able to get her to speak, not a peep, not since it happened. It's a miracle, that's what it is!"

Despite the other woman's excitement, Tantomile just frowned. "Ruby doesn't talk. Her voice was scared away."

Doralee's face started to fall and turn to horror as Tantomile started looking around, mind already moving to other things.

Coricopat paled at that, rising to intercept Doralee, "My sister... she... she's very... wh-what's wrong?"

Doralee's expression was still best described as horrified. "And they shall be among the people and they shall speak truths and whisper secrets and you will know them by their craft," she said, tone of voice clearly quoting something she'd long since memorized.

"Wh-what are you talking about?" He vaguely recognized the passage, but he hoped he was wrong.

"Thou shall not suffer a witch to live!" Doralee cried.

"No, wait, she's not a witch, she's just a troubled girl."

But Doralee was out of the hospital, heading for the center of town, where she began ringing a bell frantically, calling the other hill folk from their beds in the middle of the night.

Coricopat was hot on her heels still trying to get through to her, "This is lunacy. You're supposed to be the teacher here...What on earth do you teach?"

The patron of the town strode up, "What's going on here? Why are you knocking us from our beds at this hour?"

"The new doctor's sister is a witch!" Doralee cried. "She read Ruby's mind, saw things she couldn't-"

Coricopat cut her off, "Tantomile is not a witch! She's just a troubled girl."

"I'm sure that's true," the older man spoke soothingly as he glanced around for Tant, finally spotting her. "You're not a witch are you? I'm the Patron here. Do you know what that means?"

"You're in charge," Tant replied, actually meeting his eyes. "Ever since the old Patron died."

The man nodded, "That's right."

Eyes going unfocused, Tantomile continued, as if not aware she was actually speaking. "He was sick. But he was gettin' better. You were alone in the room with him..."

Before Coricopat could react, the Patron moved forward, striking Tant hard, "This girl reads minds and spins falsehoods. She's a witch, and we must purge the devil from her with fire!"

Tantomile screamed as the crowd moved around her.


	10. So the Guilt it Is

Back on Serenity, Mac stepped into the infirmary as the ship pulled away from the Magellan. Tugger had been muttering something about passengers never being what they said and Macavity wanted to see how Cohen was doing.

The shepherd offered him a faint smile as he entered. His wound had been well tended and now it was just a matter of resting and letting it heal, "Hello, Captain."

"Shepherd," Mac greeted. "You're gonna be fine. The Alliance patched you up just dandy like."

"Alliance?"

"Yeah, let us come, let us leave. What kind of ident card gets us that kind of reception and send off?" Mac asked, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms, considering the injured man.

"I'm a Shepherd," Cohen answered. "Folks like a man of God."

"Like hell they do," Mac scoffed. "Men of god make people feel guilty and judged. That ain't what I saw. You gonna tell me what happened?"

"Someday," the minister promised, "but not today. It's good to be home."

"You callin' this home now then?"

Cohen's lips quirked upward at that, "Would you prefer I didn't?"

"No, just curious is all," Mac said. "Why someone just on a journey with an ident card that gets VIP treatment calls a place like this home now."

"Because that's what it's become. A home, with a bit of a crazy family included."

"We're just a bit crazy?" Mac laughed. "You do us a kindness, I think."

"Well, that is rather part of my job description. Now...if you don't mind very much I think I should probably get some rest..."

"Sure," Mac murmured. "I am gettin' that story from you someday."

"Already told you that," Cohen murmured in response, already drifting off again.

Stepping out of the room, Mac paused, looking around the area, where Coricopat's med bag was still sitting on the table, next to that random carving Mistoffelees had returned with. "Dropping off goods will be easier without fugitives," Jemi said, coming down the stairs.

"Yeah," Mac grunted. "It will."

Grids paused where she had been on her way to check on Cohen. She hesitated before moving over and picking up the swan carving, "So that's it then?"

"What is with that thing?" Mac asked.

"It..." she shrugged, "He liked it. It's...hopeful."

Mac arched a brow. "Just... please tell me you ain't gonna guilt me into going back with a hopeful... fowl carving thing."

"It's a swan," she corrected. "And I shouldn't have to. But I am going to let you know that your mechanic will be in a bad way if you don't. His last interaction with the doctor was a rousing fight."

"So the guilt it is," Mac murmured.

"Sir?" Jemi said faintly.

"Get your husband on the line," Mac sighed.

Grids paused for another moment, but nodded and went to find Mistoffelees.

s-s-s-s

Coricopat hurried after the hill folk who were creating a pyre, still trying to get through to the Patron as the man dragged Tant to the stake and tied her to it, "You can't do this!" He looked around frantically, he couldn't honestly have gotten her away from the government for this to happen, "Take me instead."

The Patron shook his head, "The witch must die. It is God's will."

As two of the hill folk moved forward with torches, the doctor stepped between them and the wood, knocking the torches away and slugging them, "Stay away from her! She's done nothing to you. If you kill her tonight it won't be God's will, it'll be your lunacy!" There was no change in the demeanor of the crowd and he finally stepped back and up onto the platform with his sister.

The man who had originally kidnapped him stepped forward as Tantomile glanced down at him. "That's not going to stop us, doctor," the man growled.

Tantomile spared a glance for him before looking back at her brother. "Time to go."

Coricopat had opened his mouth to respond to the other man but glanced at his sister, "What?"

There was a rushing sound and Serenity came into sight over the trees, a spotlight illuminating the scene.

The cargo door bays opened, flashing more lights down, to better illuminate Tugger who was holding his largest gun down on the proceedings.

Moments earlier Serenity had let Mac and Jemi off, who now approached the crowd with their own guns drawn. "Well, look here," Mac declared, voice booming over the sound of the engines. "Looks like we got here just in the nick of time. What does that make us?"

"Big damn heroes, sir," Jemi replied and Tantomile smiled serenely from where she was still tied up.

"Ain't we just," Mac said, grinning. "Sorry to interrupt, but y'all got something that belongs to use and we'd like it back."

The Patron frowned deeply at that, "This is a holy cleansing. You cannot think to thwart God's will."

Mac did not look impressed. "See that man hangin' out of the space ship with the really big gun? Now, I'm not sayin' you weren't easy to find. It was sortta out of our way and he didn't want to come in the first place. Man's lookin' to kill some folk to make himself feel better. So really, it's his will y'all should worry about thwarting." By that point he and his first mate had reached the pyre and he turned to Coricopat. "Gotta say, doc, your talent for alienatin' folk is near miraculous."

"I do my best," Coricopat murmured in response, moving to untie Tant.

One of the townsfolk protested, "That girl's a witch!"

That got a long blink from the captain who cocked his gun and raised it again. "Yeah, but she's our witch. So we're cuttin' her down and takin' her with us."

By that time the doctor had finally gotten his sister loose. He kept glancing at Mac, as though unable to believe that they'd come back.

"Now if you don't mind," Mac said, gesturing to the townsfolk to move out of their way again before leading the procession back to the shuttle they had parked outside of the town. Jemi motioned for Tant and Cori to go before her. Coricopat guided his sister through the crowd, following Mac to the shuttle. He remained silent until they were back on board Serenity, only speaking then to suggest his sister go to her cabin.

Tugger strode over across the cargo bay. "I really wanted to shoot someone!" he protested as Tantomile let herself be led away by her brother.

"Next time," Mac assured, patting him on the shoulder.

"Couldn't I like, have injured one of them?" Tugger whined.

Coricopat offered him a long look at that, "Bigoted, uneducated, and fanatics they may have been, but they didn't have a doctor at all. Injuring one would have killed them. At least with that gun."

Tugger scowled at him and Mac just shook his head. "Get your sis settled, doc. Tugger, seriously, next time. You'll have your chance to shoot someone soon enough."

The young doctor slipped off to go check on Tant and make sure she was settling in to at least try to sleep.

s-s-s-s

Several hours later, Mac approached the infirmary and stopped when Cohen wasn't there.

Coricopat came into the room outside the infirmary, "I've moved him to his room."

"Oh, right," Mac said, shifting back. "How's he feeling then?"

"Sore, tired, and he needs a good long while to recover from that. He'll be fine though, they took good care of him."

"Good," Mac said, nodding. "They had damn well better have, all the fuss we went through."

The doctor looked toward the infirmary, "I should have been here to treat him. I'm sorry."

"Well, you were busy tryin' to get yourself set on fire, it happens," Mac replied with a shrug.

There was a long pause before Coricopat spoke again, "Why did you come back for us?"

"You're on my crew," Mac replied. It really did boil down to that for him. More than the threat of Mistoffelees moping around the ship for the next year or so, more than Grids' angry looks, more than trying to find a new doctor to patch them up.

"Well, yes, but..." He shook his head, "You don't like me, and my sister is more than a slight inconvenience for you. Why would you come back?" He couldn't get his mind around the fact that a man who he was aware didn't like him much if at all would come for them when their own parents would leave Tantomile stranded and experimented on.

"You're on my crew," Mac repeated. "Why we still talkin' about this?" Turning, he started striding up the stairs. "Food's in ten."

Coricopat shook his head, watching the captain go, before he turned to head into the infirmary.

Mistoffelees appeared that moment, coming the other way. He stopped when he realized Coricopat was standing right there, approaching more cautiously. Leaning down, he picked up the carving he'd never had time to put away. "Sorry, I'll get this out of your sight."

The doctor paused at that, blinking, "Out of..." Realization dawned, "Oh God. I am so sorry about what I said earlier."

Biting the inside of his lip, Mistoffelees just considered him a moment. "Didn't seem too sorry when you said it..."

The doctor ran a hand over the back of his neck, ruefully, "No, I don't suppose I did. It doesn't change the fact that I am, and that it was unnecessarily cruel of me."

Mistoffelees was doing his hardest not to agree with that statement. "Well, I'm glad you're back at any rate."

Managing not to flinch, he nodded, "So am I."

Considering his face for a long moment, the mechanic stepped forward, putting his free hand on Coricopat's arm. "Glad you didn't get yourself set on fire either."

The doctor startled at the touch, careful not to draw away, "I have to say I'm rather glad of that myself." He paused, "I am sorry about earlier. I wasn't mad at you and you didn't deserve me lashing out at you."

"Well," Mistoffelees shifted. "Were you lashin' out at me or life at that point?"

"Life I suppose, but you were still in the line of fire and I apologize."

"I can handle it," Mistoffelees said, patting his arm and drawing his hand back. "'Sides, I've gotten harsher rants from the Capt many a time."

Coricopat paused, but nodded slightly, "I...alright."

"Well, I'm fine, and you're fine and non-toasted, and back on the ship so everythin's shiny, yeah?"

"I suppose so."

"Then," Mistoffelees shifted. He could say he was fine until his tongue fell out, didn't mean he still wasn't feeling hurt or sore, or even still on edge from abandoning them, no matter how brief that ended up being. "I should probably go, get some supplies settled in."

"I...alright. Can I give a hand with anything?"

"Oh, just food and the like, get ready for dinner," Mistoffelees shrugged.

Coricopat hesitated, "I...don't understand the captain. I suppose I can see what you might see in him."

Pausing from where he'd half turned, Mistoffelees glanced back. "What? What brought that on?"

"He came back for us, and I'm sure he doesn't like me, but he came back."

"Well, it's the Capt," Mistoffelees said with a shrug and a smile. "Come on, don't you remember he served in the war? He's very much of stickin' to your man, and not leavin' anyone behind, you know?"

"What...what goes on between the two of you?"

The mechanic just blinked at him. "He's the captain."

"That...Well I know  _that_. The two of you just seem...close. I was wondering about the two of you. I suppose it's none of my business, though."

"Sure we're close," Mistoffelees shrugged. "Most people on this boat are."

"That's not how I meant it. You and the captain, there's...rather a lot of touching."

"Sure," the shorter said again. "I mean, it's sortta how things are down out on the border. I'm sure the Core is all tight laced about things but it don't matter so much out here."

"But..." He shook his head, "Forget it."

Still frowning, Mistoffelees titled his head. "Alright."

"I just, the two of you seem rather intimate, and overt about it as well."

"I guess it really is different on the Core planets, isn't it?" Mistoffelees said, frowning slightly and still entirely not comprehending what Coricopat was actually hinting toward.

"It is, but that sort of intimacy seems pretty universal."

"Yeah, sure, we're affectionate toward each other," Mistoffelees said.

"Overly so. Are the two of you not...together?"

"Together?" Mistoffelees frowned.

" _Together_." He could bring himself to word it more explicitly than that.

"Like, how together? We live in the same space, work on the same crew, I mean..."

The doctor tensed and finally managed to speak it, "Lovers."

"Lo-" the mechanic stared at him for a shocked moment, as if replaying the previous conversation and finally figuring it out. The next minute his shock dissolved and he burst out laughing.

Coricopat's eyes narrowed, "No need to laugh."

"You think, you think Mac and I are... are lovers?" Mistoffelees repeated, and couldn't help but laugh again.

"Evidence would indicate so."

"Evidence?" Mistoffelees tried to get himself under control. "You sure? The hell would you get an idea like that?"

"As I said...you're both very touchy, and..."

"That's how we show affection! I'd be downright touchy with you if you didn't keep flinchin' back," Mistoffelees said, still on the verge of laughter.

"And the kisses on his cheek? The spat you had on Persephone?"

"Would you like me to kiss your cheek?" Mistoffelees asked. "I mean, he's like that crazy uncle or older brother that's a pain and makes a mess of things and you love anyway. Or a dog, I don't know, I've never had one. As... as for that spat as you called it, it was because he was being a jerk, he always is. He..." Mistoffelees trailed off, trying to fashion why the idea of being told wanting fancy things was such a waste of his time considering the fanciest thing he wanted was Coricopat. "Said that I'd have no room in my life for pretty things."

The doctor considered, finally nodding, "I suppose that makes sense."

"You seriously thought I was with Mac?" Mistoffelees said, almost asking the other to treat this as much as a joke as he was.

"Well, from what I've seen and what I've known, it was a logical conclusion."

"But I-" Mistoffelees started and stopped just as suddenly.

"What?"

"I," he started again when Mac reappeared.

"Is anyone cookin' dinner or what?" he demanded and upon seeing him Mistoffelees burst out laughing again.

Coricopat looked put out at that, "I'm going to go check on the infirmary again."

Mac blinked. "Um, what?"

"Sorry," Mistoffelees attempted, holding the swan carving closer to his chest. "Just... just..."

"Just?" Mac prompted.

"It's nothing," the doctor answered, retreating to his infirmary.

"What was that?" Mac turned to his mechanic who had suddenly stopped laughing, looking after Coricopat.

"Oh, erm..."

"Xaio didi," Mac said. "What was that?"

"He thought we were lovers," Mistoffelees murmured softly.

Mac just stared at him. "Come again?"

"That's what I thought," Mistoffelees mumbled, stepping past the captain. "I'll go start dinner."

The doctor kept his attention on the drawers, working on seeing what they had and didn't have. Mac stared after the mechanic, glanced at Coricopat and ended up turning toward Griddlebone's shuttle instead, not bothering to knock. "You might wanna help Misto with dinner."

"What have I said about knocking, and why?"

"You said to do so, but I think bargin' in is more manly and 'cause our doctor just told him he thought Misto and me were all lover like."

Grids looked at him for a long moment, "Well...I'll go give Misto a hand then."

"How are we lovers?" Mac asked, thumbs going to his suspenders. "I don't get it."

"The two of you are rather close. And he doesn't know you."

"But," Mac started to protest. "Doc's blind if he thinks Misto's lookin' at me not him." He refused to add the Doc was blind if he thought Mac was looking at Misto.

"I know that, and you know that, but he is rather blind."

"It would be too much to start a campaign to get him to be less so, wouldn't it?"

"Yes, it would. I think it would do more harm than good."

"Well, you should go get started on dinner then," Mac said, taking a step back. "And I'll leave your shuttle then."

She inclined her head, stepping past him and heading for the galley.

Mistoffelees had left the swan on the counter, working up the protein.

Griddlebone entered and moved over, "Hello there."

"Hello there," he said, flashing her a smile before abruptly looking down again.

"So I hear that the doctor is obtuse."

"He thought I was lovers with the captain!"

"Well, I can't say I entirely blame him," the companion responded.

"But, I mean, Mac is..." Mistoffelees sighed and fell silent. "I laughed at him."

"You...laughed at him?"

"In his face. Somewhat hysterically. And again when Mac showed up."

"Oh Misto...that wasn't the right response..." She set to work, helping him prepare dinner.

"Maybe not, but it was such a ridiculous idea!"

"But if he's jealous, laughing at him isn't the right reply."

"Oh. Was he jealous?"

"I would say probably, yes."

"Oh," Mistoffelees said softly. "Do you think this will work for dinner?" he asked, surveying the protien.

Grids nodded, "I think so, yes."

"It's just... do you remember what he said? About eating the same thing every night?"

Griddlebone sighed, "I'll go see what sort of spices we still have."

Tilting his head back, he blushed. "Am I pathetic about this?"

"No, I don't think so. I think you want to make everything alright for him here. It's a good thing."

"Really?" he asked, turning back to her.

"Really. You really like him, Misto. Trying to help him settle in is a  _very_  good thing."

"I want him to stay," Mistoffelees admitted.

"And I think he actually does want to stay."

"I hope so," he murmured, voice soft.

"Let me go see what I have to add a bit of personality to the meal tonight, alright?"

"Alright," he said, finally offering her a smile. "We'll make it work, yeah?"

"Of course we will," she offered him a smile and then headed for her shuttle to see if she had anything stored away.


	11. Without the Training

Several weeks later, Mistoffelees leaned against the ladder next to the passenger dorms, which Coricopat and the others had moved into permanently. "Come on," he was teasing Coricopat. "Admit it."

The doctor rolled his eyes, shaking his head and suppressing a smile, "No. I won't because it's not. I use swear words like anybody else."

"I don't believe you 'cause I've never heard you."

"I swear when it's appropriate."

"But the point of swearin' is that it ain't," Mistoffelees said, leaning a little forward. "What you gotta be appropriate all the time for anyway?"

The doctor rolled his eyes again as Griddlebone made her way past the doorway to the corridor, heading toward her shuttle. "Hey there," Mistoffelees smiled up at her. "Headin' off for another glamorous romance?"

"I do rather hope so," she answered, a slight smile on her face. "I'll see the two of you tomorrow. Promise not to let Mac get you in too much trouble while I'm gone."

"I'll do my best," Mistoffelees promised. "Have good sex!"

Grids laughed at Coricopat's scandalized look before she swept up to her shuttle. Mistoffelees glanced back at Coricopat and blushed slightly. "What?"

"Have good sex? Really?"

"Well, do you want her to have bad sex or somethin'?"

"No, but...Honestly I try not to think about it."

"You try not to think about sex?" Mistoffelees asked, unconsciously leaning a bit forward.

"Well...I..." He was cut off by a crash from the direction of the infirmary, "What was that?"

"No, wait," Mistoffelees tried to pull him back and sighed.

The doctor paused, glancing at him, "What?"

"You didn't answer my question."

"I try not to think about other peoples' sex lives."

"You'd think about your own then?" Mistoffelees asked, realizing they really should go see what that crash was before it got out of control but not wanting to drop the subject. It was so damn hard to get Coricopat to approach it in the first place.

"I need to go check on the infirmary and make sure that Tant hasn't done something to injure herself," Coricopat managed, even as a blush faintly tinged his cheeks.

"Yeah, alright," he mumbled, trailing after him and stopping dead when they saw Tugger standing over the table, medical tape in one hand and using it to strap a gun to his stomach. The rest of the room was in utter shambles. "Oh."

Coricopat gaped at the infirmary for a full minute before he found his voice, "What happened in here?"

"Needed to find some tape," Tugger rolled one shoulder, continuing his task serenely.

"So you had to tear my infirmary apart?" He moved past the taller man to try and put at least some of it back where it belonged.

"Apparently," Tugger said with a smirk, not looking like he was sorry at all. Mistoffelees narrowed his eyes at the larger man who finally looked somewhat shamefaced.

"My god..." The doctor shook his head, trying to even figure out where to start, "You're like a trained ape.  _Without_  the training!"

Mac chose that moment to appear, stepping past Mistoffelees. "Tugger," he said, slowly. "I told you we're settin' down on the Canton factory settlement on Higgins' moon."

"That you did," Tugger nodded.

"Canton don't allow guns," Mac said.

"Yes sir," Tugger nodded. "Which is why ain't strappin' it to my hip."

Mac scowled. "No. You ain't strappin' one anywhere. Understand?"

Coricopat glanced in that direction from where he was re-rolling some of the bandages.

"Mac," Tugger started, looking for a second almost panicked. "You don't understand. I was in Canton a few years back, and well, I might have made myself a few enemies thereabouts." Mac did not look impressed.

The doctor's grey gaze moved to him, his eyes widening in feigned surprise, "Enemies? You? No, how could this be?"

Tugger shot him a dark look. "I just don't think the thought of goin' in there empty handed is all."

"Stop discussin' things already been decided," Mac said, nodding to Mistoffelees and patting his shoulder before striding off. Scowling, Tugger ripped the tape off his stomach, whimpering when he realized just how much that hurt.

Coricopat finally located some of the salves, "You want this? It should help a bit with the damage you just did."

Tugger gave him a long look and stalked off, head held high. Mistoffelees reached forward for the salve. "I'll leave it by his bunk so tonight when he's done bein' pissy he can use it."

The doctor smirked slightly, handing the tube over, "Alright, so long as you think he will."

"Eventually," Mistoffelees said. "Despite his tough guy thing, he's not so fond of gettin' hurt himself. You just gotta know how to approach him is all."

"And my chances of that are minimal at best."

"Not so minimal," Mistoffelees protested. "You just... gotta relax around people, figure out what they do and like and stuff."

That earned him an arched eyebrow, "Right, and I am able to do that around most. I don't trust him. I don't like him. And I'm not certain I want to."

"Well," Mistoffelees shrugged and felt the ship land. "Should go get ready for the job then."

"Probably," the doctor nodded.

"You can... come out if you like," Mistoffelees offered. "Get a breath of fresh air or somethin'."

He considered, "You sure the captain wouldn't mind?"

"Oh, I'm sure he'd be okay with you seein' some sunshine for a sec," Mistoffelees flashed him a grin before making his way across the cargo hold. The doctor smiled before following Mistoffelees across the hold.

Jemi arched a brow at the sight of the doctor before hitting the button to lower the ramp, the rest of the crew having gather, Tantomile lurking around the edges. Coricopat's nose wrinkled at the smell from the planet as the ramp lowered, "Goodness that's a stench."

"It's why it's such a good drop point," Mac said, stepping out and shading his eyes against the sun. "No one comes here that don't have to."

Pounce stepped up next to the captain, "So, I vote we do this job really really fast. Who's with me?"

There was a general showing of hands. "We know our man," Mac said. "We go in, make contact. Easy as pie. Jemi, hold down the fort. Call ahead to Bernouli, let him know we'll have his goods end of the week."

"Don't I usually stay with the ship?" Pounce half-protested.

"I outrank you," she said, kissing him. "Have fun, hon."

"Thanks, love, but I think you owe me for outranking me when I get back..."

"I'll be sure to have something waiting," she grinned at him, retreating back to the ship.

"God, I love that woman," the pilot murmured.

Coricopat glanced at Mistoffelees, "So this is the place where they..." he arched a brow at their surroundings, "make mud?"

"Clay really," Mistoffelees chirped, unable to help watching Jemi and Pounce with a somewhat starry expression. "You'd be surprised how much it ends up in. Serenity has more than a few ceramic parts."

"Really?" the doctor looked a bit surprised at that.

"Oh yeah," Mistoffelees nodded and turned to Mac. "Do you think Coricopat might come with us, capt?"

The doctor started to form a protest at that, but Cohen spoke, "Go on, lad, I can watch over your sister. I should be able to keep my eye on a flock of one." Still on the side of the group, Tantomile tilted her head but nodded emphatically at that.

Coricopat looked uncertain, "I don't know...Are you sure?"

Mistoffelees made eyes at Macavity who considered. "We ain't going that far, and you could make yourself useful."

Tugger looked up from where he was pulling goggles on top of the hood he was wearing. "Come again?"

The doctor looked at Mac, "Not to agree with Tugger, but, what?"

"The management here don't take kindly to sight seers, so we're posing as..." he glanced at Tugger and lost his train of thought. "As buyers. There ain't one of us that looks the part like you do." The captain gestured to Coricopat's suit, which he still insisted on wearing despite living in space. "I mean, the pretty fits, the soft hands, clearly a moneyed individual..." as he spoke he started circling the other and even Mistoffelees looked a little uncomfortable. "All rich and lily white all over."

Coricopat eyed him warily, "Fine, I'll go. Just for the love of all things holy stop describing me."

"Please," Mistoffelees added, voice slightly strained.

Smirking, Mac led the way down the ramp way. "Sure thing, boss."

"Do I gotta call him boss?" Tugger whined, following.

They got through a rather painful conversation with the foreman-Coricopat feeling that Mac really should have given him a better idea of what to say before shoving him into that-and made their way towards the town the workers lived in.

"We're gonna meet our contact and then it should be simple enough from there," Mac was saying.

Tugger just looked annoyed. "Did you listen to that conversation? The boy is gonna get us killed through sheer moronicy!"

"He's learnin'!" Mistoffelees protested.

"His disguise as boss ain't half as funny as yours," Mac returned. "Who're you supposed to be anyway?"

"Captain's got a point, Tug," Pounce spoke up. "You aint' been here in years. You really need that get up? No one'll remember you now."

Tugger turned to snap something and nearly ran into Macavity who'd stopped dead. "I'm thinkin' they might," Mac said, voice strained.

The others stopped as well to stare at the ceramic statue before them. It was a good likeness and the pedestal it stood on bore the legend "Tugger Cobb."

Coricopat blinked once, "Son of a bitch."

"Tugger?" Mac said as Mistoffelees whipped around to stare at Coricopat.

"Yeah, Mac?"

"You want to tell me how come there's a statue of you here lookin' at me like I owe him somethin'?" Mac attempted.

"Wishing I could," Tugger replied, voice strained as everyone for the most part stared at the statue rather than each other.

"No, seriously," Mac said.

The doctor placed a hand halfway over his mouth, considering the statue, "This  _must_  be what going mad feels like."

"Looks sorta angry, don't he?" Mistoffelees murmured.

"I think they captured his essence," Pouncival nodded, firmly.

"Yeah," Mistoffelees agreed and Mac turned to Tugger.

" _Seriously_ , hell's this?"

"I got no ruttin' idea!" Tugger protested. "I was here a few years back, stole some money off the magistrate up the hill but it went south and I had to high tail it. They don't... put you on a pedestal in town square for that."

"I'm lookin' at some fair evidence says they do," Mac said.

A whistle sounded, the foreman calling the next shift out. Tugger just about jumped out of his skin. "Look, instead of us gaping around playing art critic til I get picked up, how's about we move away from this eerie-ass piece of work and get on with our increasingly eerie-ass day?"

Pounce tilted his head on one side, still looking at the statue, "I dunno. This warrants a moment's consideration I think."

"Everywhere I go, his eyes follow me," Mistoffelees murmured, swaying from side to side. Letting out a frustrated sigh, Tugger turned and stormed off.

Pounce chuckled, shaking his head, "Okay, that thing's creepy, but we should probably go make sure he doesn't get picked up by the authorities, right?"

"Right," Mac agreed and didn't move until Mistoffelees stepped forward and started dragging him away.

Pounce took Coricopat by the elbow and guided him away as well, the doctor still gaping at the statue in shock.

s-s-s-s

Tantomile sat at the kitchen table, Cohen's bible out in front of her and bent over it. Her hair brushed over the pages and she appeared quite focused.

Cohen entered the kitchen, moving over to see how they were doing for supplies and things. He glanced toward the girl, "What are you up to over there, Tantomile?"

"Fixin' your bible," she replied, not looking up.

He blinked at that, "You...what?"

"Bible's broken," she said, still not looking up and tearing a page from the book. "Contradictions, false logistics, doesn't make sense."

He moved quickly over, "Tant, that...you can't just..."

She crossed off another passage as he moved over. "We'll integrate non-progression evolution theory with God's creation of Eden. Eleventh inherent metaphoric parallels already there. Eleven," she paused and gestured to show how much she meant it. "Important number. Prime number. One goes into the house of eleven eleven times but always comes out one." Stopping she finally looked up at him. "Noah's ark is a problem," the girl declared.

The shepherd blinked at that, "Is it now?"

"It must be early quantum state phenomenon. Only way to fit five thousand species of mammal ont he same boat," she beamed up at him and ripped out another page.

He reached for the page, gathering the others that she'd torn out as well, "Tant, you don't... _fix_  the Bible."

"But..." she frowned. "It's broken. It doesn't make sense." She reached out for the pages, holding onto them.

"It's not about making sense. It's about believing in something and letting that belief be real enough to change your life. It's about faith. You don't fix faith, Tantomile. It fixes you." He pulled on the pages, but realized her grip was strong enough that he risked tearing them again and let go, "You hang on to those, now."

"Did faith fix you then?"

"It's an ever changing situation," he answered. "It certainly has made my life a bit easier."

She frowned slightly, eyes going unfocused. "But you think it helps. Maybe it's the thinking that helps."

"Possibly. It certainly feels like it does sometimes."

That got a small smile out of her and she glanced back at the bible.

He rose, "Well, I..." he eyed the bible and hoped she wouldn't' do too much more damage, but could probably find another if she did. "I should go see to some things. If you need anything I'll be in my cabin."

She nodded, hair bent over the book again only this time she wasn't writing or tearing but simply looking.

Cohen hesitated, but finally exited and headed to his room.

s-s-s-s

Having reached the mudder's town, Tugger twitched as he looked around the bar. "That can't have been a statue of me," he said. "Flies with the face of every kind of reason."

"Ain't arguin' with that," Mac muttered, taking a drink and wincing.

Pounce took a drink and promptly started coughing, "What the hell is this?"

"Mudder's milk," Tugger replied, finally looking pleased by something. "All the protein and vitamins a workin' man could need, plus carbs and fifteen percent alcohol."

"It's horrific..." Pounce pushed his drink away.

"It worked for the Egyptians," Coricopat murmured.

"What?" Mistoffelees looked over at him and Tugger's look darkened slightly.

"The ancient Egyptians, back on Earth-That-Was." The doctor explained, "Not so different from the ancestral form of beer they fed the slaves to build their pyramids. It's liquid bread. Kept them from starving and knocked them out at night so they wouldn't be inclined to insurrection." He looked around the bar, "Inclined to say that's what it's used for here too."

"That..." Mistoffelees paused, actually trying to find something to say to that. "Is so historical." Not quite as complimentary or pleased as he wished he'd sounded.

Mac was already not paying attention, looking toward the door. "Well, what's a dressed up fellow doing in a place like this?" he asked, looking at the man who just walked in.

Coricopat offered Mistoffelees an uncertain smile as the well-dressed man made his way over to the table, "You folks wouldn't be looking for Kessler would you?"

"That would be us," Mac agreed.

Tugger glanced over at where a boy was staring at him. "Git!" he muttered. "Your eyes are stuck in your head."

The boy scurried off and the man shook his head, "I knew a Kessler."

"Knew?" Mac asked, feeling suddenly concerned.

"He was a good middleman. Low profile. Didn't filch. Last week, the factory foreman and his prod crew heard he was moving contraband through town. Gave him a peck of trouble for it."

"And what did this peck look like?"

"Looked like chopping off his hands and feet with a machete and rolling him into the bog."

Pouncival paled at that, "They peck pretty hard 'round here."

"Look," Mac said, looking a bit more panicked. "I have man waitin' off world for his goods and I want my payment. So if there's nothin' to be had I'd like to know now."

"Not to worry. Your man's merchandise is here, safe in Kessler's hiding place. We just got to figure out how to get it across town without being seen by the foreman and his prods. I advise we all just lay low for a moment. Keep your heads down until we come up with something," with that advice the man glanced around and wove his way off.

Mac nodded. "Layin' low," he said, taking a drink. "We're good at that."

Except at that very moment the man who had been thrumming a banjo started to sing. The entire bar cheered, joining in as the song went along, clearly a crowd favorite. "Tugger! The man they call Tugger!"

The man in question paled, whipping his head around as the song continued. "He robbed from the rich and he gave to the poor, he stood up to the man and he gave him what for. Our love for him now ain't hard to explain, the Hero of Canton the man they call Tugger! Our Tugger, he saw the Mudder's backs breaking, he say the Mudders lament. And he saw the magistrate taking, every dollar and leaving five cents. So he said, you can't do that to my people, he said..." the song continued as the crew gaped.

"Um, Tugger?" Mac started.

"Yeah Mac?"

"You got any light you'd like to shed on this development?"

"No, Mac," Tugger replied, face frozen in shock.

Coricopat leaned back in his chair, shaking his head at the thought of what he'd said earlier, "I was mistaken.  _This_  must be what going mad feels like..."

"Seriously, Tugger," Mac tried again.

"I got no ruttin' idea!"

The man continued with the song, "Now here is what separates heroes from common folk like you and I. The man they call Tugger, he turned 'round his plane and let that money hit the sky."

"Oh, gorram it," Tugger moaned. "That's what happened. I stole the money, like the song says, took one of the magistrate's hovercraft. But got tagged with anti-aircraft and started loosin' altitude. Had to dump the strong boxes... the mudders must have got it..."

Pounce looked around at the others, "I vote our next stop is a mysterious crappy town where I'm the hero. Everyone okay with that?"

"Sure," Mac said, not paying attention to him. "So you're a folk hero?"

"Guess so..."

"Explains the statue in town square... one of them musta seen what you looked like," Mistoffelees said. "'Cause my theory was none of them had met you."

"Could have gotten his picture off a warrant," Mac replied.

Coricopat nodded, "I think the captain's theory's got the highest probability."

"Probably," Mistoffelees agreed and Tugger got moaned and buried his head in his hands.

The singing came to a stop as the crew finally decided it was best to depart, a general shout of "Tugger!" going up from the mudders.

"Now they're off the subject of me, can we go?" Tugger asked.

"I'd say that's reasonable," Mac said and they rose as one.

They were almost out the door when the kid from before pointed in their direction, "That's him!"

Tugger jumped back, as the crowd cheered. He turned and retreated back into the bar. "Gimme some milk," he said, pulling his hood a bit lower.

The bartender handed him a jar, as one of the other men protested that, "Don't you understand? That's Tugger!"

That was enough for the bartender to swipe the bottle of mudder's milk back.

The mercenary leapt back. "What?"

The barkeep found another bottle, setting it down in front of Tugger, "Hero of Canton won't drink that horse piss in my bar. He drinks the best whiskey in the house!"

Tugger blinked, before suddenly grinning. He lifted the bottle, cheering.

The other crew members trailed back into the bar, Mistoffelees looking at Mac, as if asking him to  _do something_  about this.

The well-dressed man from earlier made his way over to them, "What in the hell's going on here? Is this how people lay low where you're from?"

"I understand your concerns, but you should know this is all part of our new plan."

The man eyed him, but shook his head and walked out of the bar. "Capt?" Mistoffelees looked up at him. "What's the plan?"

"That is still in the planning stages," Mac replied.

"That's comforting," Coricopat murmured, still looking at Tugger with something akin to horror in his eyes.


	12. You seem to Have Built a Life for Yourself at Least

Tantomile looked down at the book she held in her hands and approached Cohen's door.

The shepherd had his thick, grey hair out of the queue he usually had it pulled back in.  To say it was frizzy was putting it mildly which was why he usually tamed it like he did.  As it was at the moment he was preparing for bed, going through his nightly rituals, one of which involved trying to get a comb through the nest on his head.

"Hello?" Tantomile called out.

"In here, Tant," he replied, setting the comb aside and turning his attention to washing his face.

"I tore these out of your symbol and they turned into paper but I want to put them back..." she said, looking at the bible rather than into the room.

He straightened, drying his face off as he turned to her, "What's that?"

"I..." she looked up, her eyes widening and shrieked at seeing the halo of his hair, dropping the bible on the floor and running.

"Tant?"  He blinked in confusion, starting to follow her, "Tantomile?"

Coming around the corner Jemi froze. "Whoa."

The shepherd arched a brow at her, "Tant's run off, we probably ought to find her..."

"Probably," the first mate agreed.

"Cargo hold first, perhaps?"

Jemi looked him over once more, suppressing a grin and turned to do just that. "Tant, honey?" she called, looking around.

They finally located her in one of the hidden holds in the cargo bay, Cohen crouching down outside, "Tant?"

"They say the snow on the roof was too heavy," she was muttering. "They say the ceiling will cave in. His brains are in terrible danger."

That garnered a long blink from the preacher, "Tantomile?  Why don't you come out?

"Can't," she muttered. "Too much hair!"

Cohen rocked back on his heels, glancing at Jemima, "Is that it then?"

"Oh hell yeah, preacher," she said, finally laughing. "If I didn't have things to do I would be in there with her." Of course it didn’t appear she had much to do, as she was sitting on the stairs laughing.

"It's part of my order.  A symbol, like the book," he started trying to explain to Tantomile.

"Uh huh," Jemi gave him a long look. "That's not gonna work. Honey, he's putting the hair away."

"Doesn't matter. It will still be there,” Tantomile muttered.

Cohen finally gave in and tied his hair back again, "Tant, will you come out?  The hair's gone away." A dissatisfied noise was all he got in return.

s-s-s-s

Back at the bar, Mistoffelees sat next to Coricopat, watching Tugger lord over the mudders. He glanced down at the drink he had and back up.

Coricopat, moderately drunk but still coherent, shook his head, "You know, I've saved lives. Dozens. Maybe even hundreds. I reattached a girl's leg, you know. Her whole leg. She named her _hamster_ after me. I get a hamster. He drops a box of money, he gets a town."  The doctor shook his head, "The ‘verse is a strange place."

"A hamster?" Mistoffelees asked, looking over. "That's adorable."

The taller man shrugged slightly, raising his glass with a murmured, "To Tugger, the box-dropping, man-ape-gone-wrong-thing."

Mistoffelees giggled. "You're pretty funny when you want to be, you know?"

Coricopat offered him a bit of a smile, "Well, I like seeing you smile."

"Huh?" Mistoffelees glanced over.

"I like seeing you smile.  You're...rather handsome.  Even covered in engine grease.  You're...no, actually especially then.  You've got a smile that lights up everything."

"I'm..." Mistoffelees was staring at him with wide eyes, moving forward when Mac suddenly appeared behind them. "It's time to get out of this nuthouse and start plannin'."

"Now?" Mistoffelees protested, eyes snapping up. "Things are goin' so well..."

"Suppose so. Tugger's certainly feelin' all kinds of good about life..." he trailed off when Mistoffelees titled his head toward Coricopat and widened his eyes. "Oh, well. Yeah, how about this? You two watch over our hero and Pounce and I will head back to the ship, yeah?"

Coricopat glanced up at the captain and nodded slightly, "If you want, sir."

"Sure," Mac said, patting Mistoffelees shoulder and going to fetch Pounce.

The doctor watched him go before turning back to Mistoffelees, "Where were we?"

"I think you were tellin' me about my smile?" he offered.

"Right.  It's a real nice smile.  You smile a lot, but it's always nice.  Some people, when they smile it doesn’t look real."

Back over at the bar, Tugger glanced over and scowled.

"And mine looks real?" Mistoffelees asked, inching just a little closer.

The doctor offered him a gentle smile, "Yeah, it always reaches your eyes.  You're honest about being happy.  You're honest about a lot of things.  I like it."

"You say honest like it's such a compliment..."

"Well it is.  Honesty's the mark of a beautiful soul.  In your case a beautiful soul in a handsome form."

"How much have you had to drink?" Mistoffelees asked, trying to laugh it off and failing.

The doctor shrugged, "Not sure how steady on my feet I am, but I don't think I'm drunk."

"O-oh. Cos... the things you're sayin'..."

"Think I gotta be drunk to say things like that?" there was a brief flash of indignation over the brunet's features.

"Well, you ain't said them before," the mechanic replied.

"Well...aright my inhibitions might be lowered a bit."

"But you're still bein' honest?"

Coricopat nodded, "Yeah." The doctor reached out, placing a hand on Mistoffelees' cheek, "I..."

"You?" he said, tilting his head into the touch and inching closer.

The only answer he got was when Coricopat leaned forward to close the gap between them, kissing him gently, though the angle was a bit awkward. It was made slightly less so when Mistoffelees moved forward to just about plaster himself against the other, holding him in the kiss.

Wrapping his arm around the mechanic, Coricopat leaned into the kiss, one hand resting on the smaller man's waist. Mistoffelees tilted his head into the kiss, trying to press even closer, or anything so he didn't have to actually pull away. Coricopat's hand moved from Mistoffelees' waist to rest against his cheek, finally drawing back just enough to catch his breath. Eye wide, Mistoffelees just looked at him a moment.

The slender doctor leaned in and kissed him briefly again, "I..."

Choosing not to say anything, Mistoffelees tugged him into another kiss. Coricopat certainly didn't protest, leaning into the kiss and drawing the other just fractionally closer. Starting to finally relax into the kiss, Mistoffelees just about leapt back and off the bench they were sitting on when Tugger cleared his throat. "Hell you two doin'?"

Coricopat startled at that, just about falling off the bench, "I...we...that is..."

"What's it look like, Tug?" Mistoffelees said, swallowing and glancing sideways at Coricopat.

Tugger just snorted. "He don't seem to know."

The doctor's eyes narrowed, "I don't know that it's really your business."

"Sure it ain't," Tugger shook his head as a mudder girl appeared, giggling against his side.

"It ain't when you're doin' worse," Mistoffelees muttered and Tugger nailed him with a long look.

"Not goin' back into the black with me now are they?" he asked before grinning down at the girl who was probably more than a little drunk and leading her away.

Coricopat blinked after him, "How does that argument make it better?"

"Means if you make a mistake they're not followin' you," Mistoffelees said, looking at his hands.

The doctor glanced at him, "Do you think this is a mistake?"

"That's not what I said. I said... that's the argument he's makin'."

"I...guess he's got a point."

Mistoffelees froze, eyes finally tracking back up to Coricopat's face. "What?"

"Not saying I agree fully, but if it did turn out to be a mistake..."

"You thinkin' it's likely to then?" Mistoffelees demanded.

"No.  I didn't say that,” Coricopat amended quickly.

"Then..." Mistoffelees bit his lower lip obviously. "Then what are you sayin'?"

"Just saying he's got a point, whether I think it applies or not."

Mistoffelees just stared at him, looking hurt for a moment. "Oh."

The doctor looked at him for a long moment, "I...didn't mean it like that."

"Then, just, answer me straight, how did you?"

"Just thinking out loud is all.  Didn't mean anything by it."

Searching his face for a moment, Mistoffelees looked down. "Alright."

"I...I didn't mean anything by it," the brunet repeated.

"Did you mean anythin' by kissing me at least then?" he asked. Every part of him was aware of the amount of space between them and honestly it was too much for his liking.

"Of course I did!"

"Well what'd you mean there then?"

"You're handsome.  You’re...nice, sweet, _you_."

"That's not... that's not that much," Mistoffelees mumbled, not meeting his eyes.

"What do you want me to say?  You're amazing."

"I," he didn't quite look like he believed the other. "But..."

"But what?"

He took another break. "I don't know. I don't know what's goin' on or why you're kissin' me or what Tugger's sayin' and..."

Coricopat interrupted him, "Do you mind me kissing you?"

"What?" Mistoffelees asked, shocked.

"Didn't you hear me?"

"Of course I heard you," Mistoffelees murmured. "Just tryin' to figure out why you're asking."

"Well, I...you seem to be asking a lot of questions about why I did it..."

"W-well I..." the mechanic swallowed hard. "S-should make sure Tugger isn't doin' anything stupid like," he attempted, failing all the while.

"I'm not sure I want to move quite yet..."

"W-why not?"

"Well, I like sitting here.  With you."

Mistoffelees blinked at him and then couldn't help but laugh. "We're a mess, you know that right?"

"Are we?"

"We, Yeah," Mistoffelees nodded. "Not sayin' I... would give it up but yeah we are."

"Can't say I mind."  He paused, "May I kiss you again?"

"You wanna?" Mistoffelees said, as if part of him couldn't help but be surprised.

"Of course."

Eyes going wide again for a moment, Mistoffelees surged forward, into another kiss, hands going to the front of Coricopat's vest and holding on. The taller man startled very slightly at that, before one arm wrapped around Mistoffelees to pull him close, his free hand going to card through the other's hair as he pressed into the kiss.

Tasting alcohol on the doctor's breath, Mistoffelees tried to push away the thought they were quite possibly both a little too drunk for this to be meaningful, instead focusing on keeping their noses away from each other and sliding their mouths together. Coricopat nipped lightly at the other's lower lip before drawing away from the kiss enough to trail kisses along the other's jawline and back, resting a final one on the corner of Mistoffelees' mouth, almost teasingly.

Trying to bit back a moan, Mistoffelees pulled away, looking around the room. "Coricopat--"

"Mm?" He tilted his head down to nip at the other's jaw.

"Movin' fast for a lot of people in the room," Mistoffelees got out past his increased heartbeat.

The doctor drew back, remembering where he was, "I...r-right."  His face was a bit flushed and his breathing quick.

"A-and I can't help thinkin' you'll regret it in the mornin'."

"Regret...." He shook his head, "Why would I?"

The mechanic glanced at the empty mudder milk bottles and back. "It ain't really the place for this."

The doctor nodded after a moment, "True..."

"I'm the one that called stop," Mistoffelees muttered. "Does that mean I need to be the one to stop kissing you."

"Probably..." Coricopat murmured.

"Don't wanna," he said, carefully kissing Coricopat this time, a hand smoothing through his hair, ruffling it slowly. The young doctor leaned up into the kiss, his arm tightening around Mistoffelees' waist slightly, but allowing the other to lead most of the kiss this time. The slow slide of their mouths was actually that much worse for Mistoffelees than the earlier kisses so he pulled back, eyes still huge.

Coricopat drew a shaky breath, "We should stop..."

"Yeah," Mistoffelees said, burying his head in the crook of the other's shoulder.

"Perhaps get a bit of sleep?  See if things look different in the morning?"

Mistoffelees laughed softly. "I can't just turn sleep on and off."

That earned a faint smile, Coricopat's hand coming up to gently stroke over Mistoffelees' hair, "Really?"

Breath catching, Mistoffelees let it out slowly at that. "Well, if you do that..."

"If I do that, what?"

"It's soothin'," Mistoffelees mumbled.

"Sleep then?"

"We didn't do a very good job of watchin' Tugger," Mistoffelees said, voice already sounding drowsy even though he didn't move back from resting against Coricopat's chest.

"He went upstairs earlier didn't he?"

"Which is why we're doin' such a bad job..."

"Should we have followed him up?" the doctor sounded skeptical.

"Suppose I'd rather not see whatever he was gettin' up to," Mistoffelees said.

"Sleep's a better plan.  We'll check on him in the morning."

"You sound like you just want me to fall asleep on you," Mistoffelees said, a light note of teasing entering his voice.

The doctor smiled a bit at that, "Well, I wouldn't be averse to it.  You're warm."

Mistoffelees tucked his head under Coricopat's chin. "You'd make me think you were just usin' me as a blanket."

Coricopat smiled faintly at that, "No, not just for that.  Though you make a nice blanket."

Smiling against him, Mistoffelees gave into the warmth, practiced at cutting out extra sound to fall asleep. Part of him didn't want to give up the touch and the idea that maybe he wasn't insane and could have something like this.

The doctor leaned his head back, and closed his eyes, more than content to focus on the other's breathing and heart rate until he was able to drift off as well.  The gentleness and intimacy of the contact was soothing, and more than welcomed.

s-s-s-s

Griddlebone finally got the beastly magistrate of the planet to leave her shuttle.  She leaned against the door for a moment, calming herself as she turned to the man's son and offered him a charming smile.  His father claimed he wasn't yet a man, well, there was more than one way to define that, and it was up to his son how to do so.  The companion moved over to sit on some cushions, by the tea she had been pouring when the men entered.  She glanced up, "Will you join me, Fess?"

He glanced over at her, shifting and adjusting his glasses. "Well, if you think that's appropriate," he managed.

She smiled, shaking her head at that, "Come join me for tea, that's all I'm asking.  It's an honored tradition."

The man hesitated a moment before moving forward and sitting down gingerly on the edge of the seat. "I'm not sure my father would approve of tea..."

"Well, your father isn't here, is he?"  She finished pouring the tea and offered the young man one of the cups, "I'm not here for him, or what he thinks I should be doing.  I'm here for you."

"I'm not entirely sure I want you here," he murmured, looking down.

Grids nodded slightly at that, "Well, then what we do is simple.  We talk, we wait an appropriate amount of time so your father can think what he likes and doesn't give you hell for it, and then we go our separate ways."  She paused, "May I ask you why, though?"

Fess shifted his shoulders, taking a quick gulp of the tea. "No offense, because you are very beautiful and I know this is your profession but... he may not think me a man for never having had... someone in bed, and he may be right but," he shook his head, a little unsure where to go or how exactly to stand up to anyone, even someone not his father.

Griddlebone considered him as she sipped at her tea, "Forgive me if I pry too far, but is there someone you care about?"

That got a startle out of his and he carefully set the tea cup back down. "What would make you ask something like that?"

"Because you remind me of my little brother," her mind flickered to the story of how Mistoffelees came aboard Serenity and she quickly added, "in some ways."

He blinked. "For some reason I never quite imagined companions having little brothers."

"Well, not by blood.  He's the mechanic on the ship I travel with, but he's my brother in all the ways that matter."

"I suppose I wonder what would make a companion travel as well," he said, looking down at the tea. "But it's not my business."

"It gives me the opportunity to see places I mightn't have otherwise," she offered by way of an answer

Nodding, he adjusted his glasses again. "I'm sure it allows you a broader range of clients as well."

Griddlebone nodded slightly, "It does, I will admit that."

He finally looked up from the tea to consider the shuttle. "You have a rather nice place."

"Thank you.  You should have seen it before I got a hold of it..."

That got a small chuckle from him. "I'm assuming that means I would not have wanted to?"

She laughed quietly, "I'm not sure most people would have."

He leaned back, finally starting to relax. "You seem to have built a life for yourself at least," he said, not sure if he meant it or if he was just trying to make idle chatter.

"I suppose I have.  For what it's worth, it's a good life," her smile faded ever so slightly.  "What of you, do you have any hopes or dreams for your own life?"

At that his shoulders started to tense again. "I suppose," he murmured. "I'm not sure I know them though. Or the ones I think I have I won't once my father decides what he wants."

Grids frowned slightly at that, but cleared her expression, "What ones do you think you have?"

"I..." his expression closed off more. "Various things. Things to help people."

"A noble thought.  Nothing you say here will leave this shuttle, you have my word on that," she added quietly.

His eyes searched her face a long moment. "You'll have to excuse me," he said finally. "For not trusting you. My father is not a forgiving man, and he would not appreciate my plans for making the mudder's life’s more bearable."

She smiled faintly again, "And that's where he's erred.  You needn't sleep with someone to become a man, Fess.  You need to do as you feel is right."

Once again the young man considered her, as if trying to decide what he should actually say. "I'm not sure he would appreciate someone he's paying saying something like that. But... thank you. I think."

She inclined her head slightly, leaving the topic to rest for the time being and seeking a less shaky footing.

s-s-s-s

Cohen looked up from where he was still trying to coax Tantomile out of the secreted hold as Mac and Pounce entered.  Pouncival looked around, "Honey, we're home!"

Jemima approached, having left Cohen and Tantomile a while ago.  "Hell you guys been? Our contact's been screamin' at me all night. Says he wants his merch yesterday."

"Well," Mac started. "We still got a couple wrinkles to work out of that."

Pounce grinned at his wife, "Did you know Tugger's a bona fide folk hero?  He's got a song and everything."

Jemi just blinked at him. "Husband mine, you've been drinkin'," she said, smelling it on his breath.

"That he has," Mac agreed, glancing at Cohen. "Don't make it any less true."

Pounce nodded, "He's got a statue an' everythin'.  They’re throwing a big day in his honor tomorrow."

"What?" she repeated, glancing at Mac as if asking him to verfy it.

"It's true enough. We got a few pillars of the Mudder Community to throw a Tugger day celebration in town square tomorrow. Should give us a distraction to get teh stolen goods from one end of town to the other."

The pilot grinned at that, "So, all should work jus' fine."

"Should," Mac said, going over to the Sheppard. "Now, what the hell are you up to?" he asked as Jemi dragged her husband away, still questioning him.

Cohen looked up, "Tantomile's decided to remain in there rather than come out."

"Really now?" Mac arched a brow.

"Too much hair!" the teenage girl declared again. "His brains are in danger and I don't have the right kind of shovel to get him out!"

The shepherd sighed, "I had my hair out of the tie, and it apparently was enough to set this off."

The captain blinked at him. "Right," he said. "Tant, hon, it might be time to come out. Don't want to worry your brother none."

There was a shuffling and she finally poked her head out. "Where is he?" she asked, eyes huge as she looked up at Macavity.

He had to blink again to try and figure out an answer. "He and Misto are watching Tugger, makin' sure he ain't doin' anything stupid like."

She considered and nodded. Cohen stayed quiet, but looked moderately impressed at that, assuming Tant came out and stayed out.

"He'll be worried, you sleep in there," Mac said, voice entirely casual.

She shot Cohen a worried look, eyes narrowing slightly as she considered his hair before nodding again, rising, and flouncing off.

The minister watched her go, shaking his head, "You have a way about you, Captain."

Mac stared after her a moment before turning back to Cohen. "Perhaps. Certainly come in handy a time or two."

"And may it continue to hold out, for your sake."

"Hell that mean?" Mac asked, giving him a long look.

"I mean, that I wish you well.  You have a streak of astonishing luck and I do rather hope it holds out."

"Alright," Mac said, still giving him a long look. "Held out quite a while so far."

Cohen shrugged slightly, "Good.  Well, if you don't mind I'm going to try and get some sleep."

"Yeah, a good plan all around," Mac said, hooking his thumbs in his suspenders and glancing up at where Griddlebone's shuttle usually was. Shaking his head he turned and strode toward his own chambers.

 


	13. You're Suddenly Feelin' Heroic Like

The next morning, Macavity pushed open the door to the bar, blinking when he noticed Tugger sitting in the corner talking to one of the mudders, actually looking earnest. But the captain let him be, looking around for his mechanic and doctor, who he was sure he'd left around here somewhere.

Coricopat and Mistoffelees were asleep exactly where he'd left them on the bench, though their position had changed.  Mistoffelees was curled on top of the doctor, head resting against his chest, both of them looking peaceful, though just starting to stir.

Coming up behind the chair, Mac just stared at them impassively until Mistoffelees woke up enough to blink his bleary eyes, realize where he was, and shift back. As soon as he was becoming vertical, he noticed Macavity and just about fell off the bench. "Capt!"

Coricopat startled awake at that, trying to sit up, but finding that motion impeded by the mechanic still partially on top of him, "Mac!"  His gaze darted to Mistoffelees quickly and then back, "Nothing happened.  I mean...there was some drinking, but we...we didn't...I wouldn't!  Not with Misto..." the words came tumbling out of his mouth before his brain was fully awake and processing what he was saying.

The Captain didn't react but Mistoffelees did. "What you mean, not with Misto?" he asked. "You seemed pretty alright with the idea last night."

The doctor's eyes widened as his brain finally caught up with his mouth, "That, I, I mean... God, that's not what I meant."

"What was then?" Mistoffelees demanded, Mac looking between them.

He glanced at Mac and then back at Mistoffelees, "I mean... that, there is absolutely no way I can explain this without you getting madder at me is there?"

"I don't know, but I'm not sure you could make me angrier," Mistoffelees snapped, Tugger slinking over from the corner and looking at Mac.

Coricopat's eyes narrowed, he was not going to be pushed and pulled into saying what was on his mind _here_ with Tugger and Macavity looking on, "Fine, I meant exactly what I said then!"

For a moment Mistoffelees didn't respond, before turning on his heel and stalking off.

The doctor closed his eyes, running a hand through his hair as a muscle in his jaw twitched, "Damn it..."

"Well, that," Macavity tried. "We should head out then. Ready for your Tugger day?"

"Sure," Tugger replied, still glaring daggers at Coricopat.

Coricopat managed not to flinch at that look, he knew he deserved it, "What do you want me to do, Captain?"

"Nothin' really," Mac replied.

"Ain't this the time civilized folk have breakfast?" Tugger added. "Sort of thing that'd be appropriate, don't you think?"

The doctor did flinch at that, "I'll see you after the celebration then."

"You do that," Mac said, giving him another dark look before he and Tugger turned to follow Mistoffelees.

Coricopat sank down into a chair at one of the tables, asking for a menu and just about banging his head on the tabletop when he was genuinely asked what that meant.

Macavity led Tugger out, explaining the plan. "So you distract them, make a speech or somethin', and we get the goods and get the hell off this planet."

"I don't know," Tugger said, shifting his shoulders. "I mean, they really..."

"What?" Mac gave him a long look. "Don't tell me you're suddenly feelin' heroic like."

"They threw a riot on my account!" Tugger protested.

The conversation was cut short as Pounce and Jemi pulled up on the mule.  The pilot was relatively chipper, as per usual, "Morning, all!"

Tugger winced at that. "Is it really him?" Jemi teased. "Surely not the hero of Canton!"

"Him in the flesh, love," Pounce grinned at her.  "So where's Misto?"

"Actually, that's a good question," Mac started looking around. "Doc said something stupid again."

Tugger snorted. "When does he not?"

"Don't you have some fans to attend to?" Mac gave him a long look.

"Eh, he'll turn up," Pounce finally decided.  "We've got things need to be done."

"Yeah," Tugger said, heading off for town square.

"Let's find the goods," Mac said, getting on the back of the Mule. Pounce turned the mule toward where they'd been told they'd find their shipment.

s-s-s-s

There was a loud knock on Griddlebone's shuttle, startling Fess awake from where he'd fallen asleep on the couch, not willing to sleep with someone his father had paid for. Opening the door, he adjusted his glass as his father started a quick but quiet tirade at him.

Grids looked up from where she'd been settled, out of sight from the door, reading.  She set the book aside and rose gracefully as Fess closed the door again, "What is it?"

"There's to be a criminal hearing later today, apparently," Fess said, looking back over.

"A criminal hearing?"

"Yes," Fess sighed, sinking back down on the couch. "There's this man that... well, when I was younger, he stole a ton of my father's money and gave it to the poor, to my father's workers. He's become a kind of folk hero. Well... apparently he's back. He landed yesterday."

Grids paled slightly at that, "Yesterday?  Oh, goodness.... I-I know him.  He has an idiotic sense of nobility.  There's just this side to him that's so...not the hard-hearted criminal he tries to be.  I...a c-criminal hearing?"  Why couldn't he stay out of trouble just for once?

"Later today. You really know him?" Fess asked, eyes widening.

She nodded, sinking back down onto the cushions, not wanting to risk looking as unsteady as she felt, "The ship my shuttle sails with is...he's on it."

"Really?" Fess looked struck for a moment. "I mean, I've admired him for years. You really know Tugger Cobb?"

That earned a long blink, " _Tugger_?  You're talking about _Tugger_?"

"Of course! The only person who ever stood up to my father."

"I know him, but....that's not who I thought you were talking about."

"Well," Fess said and sighed. "My father traced him back to his ship, and had port-control put a land-lock on it. He'll get back and find that he's grounded. I do hate the idea of his getting caught..."

"Land-locked....oh God...  That would be bad, if he was caught."

"It's a sad situation," Fess murmured.

"You're sure you couldn't do anything about it?"

"Like what?" he frowned.

"Get the land lock removed?  Surely there must be someone here who would listen to you about that."

He did not look convinced. "They listen to my father, not me."

She sighed, but finally nodded, "If you think so."

s-s-s-s

Coricopat eyed the breakfast that had been set before him and pushed it away, "Could I just get the check please?"

The door opened and the bartender cleared out as a one-eyed man entered the bar.  His hair and beard were long and scraggly, and he made a beeline for the doctor, "Hear tell you run with Tugger Cobb."

"Excuse me, sir?  I don't know who--"  Coricopat was cut off as he was hauled out of his chair and slugged across the jaw.  The slender physician fell back onto the floor.

"Sir?! Look at me you pantywaist idiot!" The man kicked Coricopat in the gut, "I just spent the last four years steaming in a hot-box and you're Sir-ing me?" Admittedly it was the magistrate who locked him up in there who had let him out, but he certainly wouldn't be questioning that.  He had other uses for the bullet in his gun.  "The folks say you're part of Tugger's team, so..."  He hauled the struggling doctor up by his shirtfront and slammed him against the wall, "So, where is that no-good reptile hiding hisself?"  When he received no answer he withdrew a wicked looking knife, placing it against the younger man's throat, "Tell me, boy, or I'll cut off every last bit of them good looks!"

Coricopat looked down his nose at the other as he reached behind him, grabbing a bottle and brining it crashing onto the other's head.  It didn't have the desired effect, instead causing the older man to cut him on the arm and knock him to the ground.

"Oh, I'm not done yet, young'un.  Not by a long shot."  He hauled the doctor up by his injured arm, "That's gonna cost you one a them eyes."  Just as he raised the knife to carry out his threat, the mudders could be heard chanting Tugger's name.  It was enough to put a stop to the idea of half-blinding the doctor as he dragged the younger man with him, "Come on, let's go find that lying snake."

s-s-s-s

Mac approached Mistoffelees, who was standing on the edge of the crowd. "We got the cargo across town, so this worked like it's supposed to. He holdin' his ground then?"

"Surprisingly well," Mistoffelees said as the crowd chanted. Tugger was standing up by his statue.

The mudders were calling for a speech, cheering on and encouraging their hero.

Tugger looked around the expanse, clearing his throat. "I... I'm no good with words. Don't find much use for them myself." The crowd smiled and urged him on, women having brought their small children out, and everyone was beaming even though covered in mud and wearing what could only be called rags. "But I want to thank you all for bein' here," Tugger continued. "Far as I see it, you people been given the shortest end of the stick ever been offered to a human soul in this crap-hill 'verse. But, you took that end... and well, you took it. And that's, well, I guess that's somethin'."

As the mudders cheered again, Mistoffelees blinked. "That didn't sound half bad," he murmured. Stumbling and unsure it may have been, and coming from the tough mercenary it was almost shocking, but the sentiment was surprisingly kind.

"I'm shocked my own self," Mac said, gaping.

A shotgun fired near the back of the crowd, causing the people to scramble out of the way as the man from the bar dragged a battered and bruised Coricopat forward with him, "Hey there, Tugger."

Tugger froze, eyes narrowing. "Stitch," he greeted and Mistoffelees turned and froze at the sight of Coricopat, Mac's expression darkening as he took a step forward.

Stitch tossed the doctor to the ground, ignoring him as he tried to get to his feet, "Thought I'd make you watch while I butchered me one a your boys."

"That ain't one of mine," Tugger replied hotly, the look of distaste on his face obvious. "Where you been hidin' anyway? You gone and got yourself lookin' mighty hideous."

"I did at that."  Stitch shook his head, "What's this about a "Hero of Canton?" Was I hearing that right? Four years of lock-down plays tricks on the ear."

"Ain't much of a hero, but workin'," Tugger replied, looking over his crowd and back at the statue.

"Yep, that's right. We used to work together, you and I," he shook his head, "Lot looks like it's changed."

Mac took another step toward him as Mistoffelees tried to help Coricopat off the ground, making soothing noises at him and trying to cover where his nose was bleeding.

Stitch aimed a gun at Mac, "Now why don't you jus' let ol' Stitch here speak his piece."

Coricopat leaned most of his weight on Mistoffelees as he let the other help him up and back away from Stitch.

Mac froze, holding his hands up as Mistoffelees glared daggers at Stitch's back, still holding onto to the doctor. "Well go on then," Mac muttered, stepping back.

"Whole lot of money in a Magistrate's safe, weren't there, Tugger? Got away clean, too! But then our plane took a hit, and we're going down. We dumped the fuel reserve, dumped the life support, hell, we even dumped the seats! Then, there's Tugger, the money, and me. And there was no way he was going to drop that money."

"He did!" one of the mudder workers said, stepping forward and glaring at Stitch. "He dropped it on the Mudders!"

"By accident, you in-bred dung-head! He tossed me out first! For six months, we run together, he turned me out before I could scream!"

"Like you wouldn't have done the same," Tugger snarled.

"No, never. You protect the man you're with. You watch his back. Everybody knows that! Well, except the Hero of Canton."

Tugger narrowed his eyes. Several years ago he didn't give a damn for honor among theives or protecting the man he was with, but since then he'd gotten used to having Mistoffelees at the dinner table and watching Griddlebone sway through the ship, and hell, he'd gotten used to Pounce's toy dinosaurs. The reminder of past transgressions took on a whole new meaning. "You gonna talk me to death then?" he bluffed. "That your plan?"

"No.  This is the plan," Stitch turned the gun on Tugger, firing as one of the mudders threw himself between them to take the bullet.

Tugger's eyes had widened and he meant to duck down when the bullet went off. He froze in shock for a moment when the Mudder moved first, the uniqueness of the action throwing him. Mere breaths later he recovered, taking his knife from his boot and throwing it at Stitch's chest.

Stitch stumbled backwards, his hands having gone to the knife handle.  He fell, dead as he hit the ground.

Tugger knelt down next to the Mudder, who was also dead and shook the body. "Get up," he muttered, eyes tearing. "You stupid... what'd you do that for? What's wrong with you? Didn't you hear a damn word he or I said?"

Mistoffelees paused, attention drifting from Coricopat over to Tugger, eyes softening.

Pushing himself up, Tugger turned and stared at the assembled crowd who had fallen silent. "All of you! You think there's someone just gonna drop money on you? Money they could use? There ain't people like there. There's just people like me." His shoulders slumped, and he looked defeated.

A Mudder boy approached, holding his bloody knife out. Tugger gave him a long look before snatching the knife back. shoving it back into his boot. Suddenly determined, he stalked over to the statue, and shoved hard on it, toppling it over.

Coricopat managed to shift some of his weight off of Mistoffelees, murmuring, "He needs you more than I do..."

Mistoffelees gave him a long look before nodding, slipping away from the doctor and stepping forward to place a hand on Tugger's arm. "Come on," he said softly. "We should get goin'..."

Glancing down at the mechanic, as if surprised to see him, Tugger nodded, turning, his shoulders slumped as the crew made their way back to the ship, Mac holding out an arm for Coricopat to lean on. The doctor glanced at the captain, but accepted the help.  The quartet returned to Serenity greatly subdued.

Letting the doctor fend for himself once they were back on the ship, Mac hit the comm. "Pounce, get us off this planet," he said, watching Mistoffelees lead Tugger down to his quarters.

"Um, yeah, workin' on that, Captain," Pounce responded before turning back to trying to get _Serenity_ started and headed off planet.  He froze when he saw the display indicating that they were landlocked, "Son of a bitch."

Griddlebone entered, "Is there a problem with take off, Pounce?"

"Is there a problem?"  The normally calm pilot sounded irate, "Is there a--" he broke off as "land-lock released" flashed on the screen.  "No.  We're fine."  Grids smiled as she left the bridge, heading for her shuttle.

s-s-s-s

The magistrate Higgins slammed his fist down in front of his son, who looked up at him serenely. "You did what?" he hissed."

"I sent an over ride to Port Control," Fess replied calmly. "Lifted the land-lock on Serenity."

"I ought to wipe that smile off your head," the magistrate growled. "How dare you defy me?"

"You wanted to make a man out of me," Fess said. "I guess it worked. Try not to be too disappointed. And by the way, if you'll excuse me, I have someone to go court." With that he rose, sailing gracefully from the room and leaving his father sputtering in anger behind.

s-s-s-s

As Serenity lifted off and headed for atmo Cohen made his way through the kitchen area, pausing when he saw Tant.

"Just keep walking, preacher man," she replied, hunched over a book was not his bible.

He nodded once and continued on his way, passing Mistoffelees who was on his way toward Griddlebone's shuttle. Hesitating, Mistoffelees knocked on her door.

"Come in," she called, glancing up from where she was straightening up the curtains around the shuttle.

He slipped inside, closing the door. "Hey you..."

"Hey...how are you doing?"

"Specifically?" he asked, picking up one of her pillows and fiddling with it.

"Or generally..." she sat down, motioning for him to join her.

"Well," he sat, leaning against her shoulder. "How did your glamorous romance go this time?"

She wrapped her arm around him, "Well, I didn't sleep with him, we talked.  He gained the courage he needed, I think."

"That's good," he said softly, still picking carefully at the pillow's fabric.

"And what happened with you while I was gone?"

"Spent the night curled up on Coricopat on a couch in a bar."

She blinked, "And how did that go?"

"Well he kissed me... and promptly said he would never do that with me."

"Oh, Misto... I'm so sorry."

He swallowed. "It... it's nothin'. I mean, I sorta expected that, you know? But he seemed so willin' the night before to change his mind."

"It's not nothing, Misto.  It hurt you.  That makes it a lot more than nothing," her tone bordered on sharp.

He brought hazel eyes up to her face finally. "It's nothin' I wasn't expectin'."

She sighed softly, "I know, and I'm sorry that's the case.  Maybe...." she shook her head, having no defense for the doctor this time.

"Maybe?" he asked softly, leaning his head on her shoulder.

"I don't know.  I have no explanation for this one."

"Damn," he sighed.

"I wish I did, but..." she shook her head, pulling him a bit closer.

"I gotta get past this," he said softly. "He's proven, time and time again and I don't know if I can do it. He's great, he's fantastic and he's not interested."

The companion opened her mouth to protest that, but finally nodded.  She'd seen evidence to the contrary, but it wasn't great enough to outweigh wha Misto saw and felt, "You'll make it.  We're here for you as much as we can be."

"I know," he offered her a smile. "Ain't like it's the worst thing I ever tried to live through. God knows right now even Tugger's havin' a worse time of it. Just gotta stop mopin'."

Grids ran a hand over Mistoffelees’ hair, "Still."

"Thanks," he said softly. "For the still. But I gotta make sure the doc's okay and the engine needs looked at..."

"Are you sure he can't see to himself?"

"He got bruised up," Mistoffelees said.

"That didn't answer my question."

"He got bruised up bad enough that I'd like to make sure he's okay," Mistoffelees answered.

Griddlebone hesitated before nodding, "Alright, just do be careful, Misto."

"I promise I'll do my best," Mistoffelees replied, setting the pillow down and rising.

Grids watched him go, taking a few moments to calm herself and convince herself that confronting the doctor was a bad idea.  She finally rose and exited her shuttle, pausing when she saw Tugger outside, "Hello, there."

He had been watching where Mistoffelees was heading for Coricopat's quarters, and turned back to where she had addressed him. "Hi," he grunted. He'd washed his hands and knife, but was still looking at the weapon strangely.

"Everything okay?"

"As it ever is," he replied, gruffly and glanced back toward the passenger dorms. "Tell me you weren't givin' Misto a pep talk about that doc again."

"Hard to do when the doctor's done such a find job ruining his chances."

"Good," Tugger grunted. "They ain't good for each other anyway. Least the Doc's not. Surprised you tried to encourage it this long."

"Misto thinks he's in love with the doctor, and watching him I would ahve sworn Coricopat felt the same," the companion murmured in response.

"Love ain't always enough. Not in a situation like this. You'd really think the Doc would be a good fit for Misto, with that stick up his ass and uppity core boy attitude? He's a cold pillar of propriety. Could someone so starched stiff deal with Misto? Someone like him could never give the boy really affection or the passion he _needs_."

"The black changes people, Tug.  He can't keep that propriety forever."  She considered him for a long moment, "I don't think anyone starched stiff could give Misto that passion, no."

"Don't give me that look," he huffed. "You and Mac walk around callin' Misto xiao didi, you really surprised the whole ship feels the same?" He looked back at his knife, turning it over as he leaned his elbows on the railing. "You think the black changes people, you ever think he could give Misto that sort of love he needs?"

"Have you watched him with his sister?"

"His mei mei ain't Misto."

"No, she isn't.  But I believe that loyalty and compassion and love like that don't just apply to family members, but to others he cares about as well."

Tugger gave a short nod. "Mayhaps. But he's sure hell at showin' it to anyone else and I still don't trust him with Misto' heart. Not now."

"No, not now.  But do you want that possible door to close for Misto?"

Tugger shrugged. "Mayhap no more than the Doc's doin'. Don't want him to close every other door too."

She sighed, but finally nodded, "They have to be able to live on the same ship though."

"I live on the same ship and I don't like 'im," Tugger grunted.

"You don't actively avoid him either though."

"Suppose not," Tugger shrugged.

"Well, we'll leave them to their own devices then.  But if Misto comes to me asking why Coricopat has said or done something I will say what I think, even if it is a defense."

Tugger paused and nodded. "So long as we all get to say what we think."

"That is a freedom Mac usually allows."

Tugger chuckled low at that as Mac looked up from where he was striding across the cargo hold. "I allow what now?"

"Freedom of speech," Grids replied, smiling at him, "usually."

"Right," he said, and starting taking the stairs up.

"I assume this all means you got what you went there for?

"Got what we went there for," he nodded, but was looking at Tugger as he spoke, who looked away.

She glanced between them, "What happened?"

"Nothin'," Tugger replied.

"Just a spot of trouble," Macavity backed him up.

Grids arched an eyebrow but finally nodded, "Very well."  She slipped away, headed for the kitchen area.

Mac looked over at Tugger, who was focusing intently on the knife again. "That true, that nothin' happened?"

"No," Tugger said, shaking his head. "It just don't make no sense, why that Mudder go and do that for. Gettin' himself killed for someone like me... just don't make sense. Not like any of them understand what happened either--probably puttin' that damn statue back up."

"Probably," Mac agreed, giving him a long look.

"Don't make no sense. Not for me."

"Every man that gets a statue made of him was one kind of a sumabitch or another. It ain't 'bout you, Tugger. They need a hero. Just happened to be you."

"I don't wanna be anyone's hero," Tugger said, pushing back. "Not if it means things like that. I ain't deservin' and they don't understand. Worst sorta folk to look up to, I am."

"Maybe," Mac said. "But they needed someone."

Tugger just looked down again.

s-s-s-s

Mistoffelees hesitated before rapping his knuckles on the door to Coricopat's room. The doctor looked up, leaning against the wall, "Who is it?"

"Misto," he said. "Wanted to make sure you weren't beat up too bad."

He grimaced at that, "Door's open, but I'm fine."

"Sure you are," the mechanic said, pushing the door open.

Coricopat watched him from where he was seated on the bed, leaning hard against the wall, "I..."

Stepping across the room, Mistoffelees reached a hand out to tilt the other's chin back, considering. "You should probably get a weave on your cheek," he said. "Rather than be an idiot and let it hurt."

"I'll get one when I get back to the infirmary."

"And this?" he said, lightly touching a bruise. "God, how many times did he punch you?"

"I lost count..." the doctor winced, pulling back from the touch.

The mechanic let out a breath and dropped his hand. "You ain't weak, you know. Why don't you fight back against this stuff? Or would it not be appropriate?"

"That’s low.  I...I didn't..."

"How is that low?" Mistoffelees asked, finally meeting his eyes.

"Alright not low, but I am aware I was beyond an ass earlier.  I don't need everyone reminding me of it every time they see me."

Mistoffelees considered him, stepping back. "You should get that weave then," he said, heading for the door.

"I..." he flinched at that, "Mistoffelees, I'm sorry."

The mechanic glanced back. "I just don't understand you. Bein' proper means nothin' out here in the black."

Coricopat shook his head, "It means more out here.  It's...it's all I have.  It's the only way I have to show respect.  To show I care."

Mouth thinning, Mistoffelees nodded slightly. "If you say so."

"I'm sorry.  It's a part of who I am."

Mistoffelees frowned. "Ain't never said it wasn't," he muttered. "Just..." he shook his head. "It just doesn't do what you think it does sometimes."

Coricopat looked away at that, "Well...I...I should get a weave on this..."

"Yeah," Mistoffelees said and closed the door on his way out. The doctor sighed, slumping down and deciding he'd deal with the weave later, he hurt too much to move.

 


	14. Didn't Sound Like You Didn't Mean It

Several months later found Macavity sitting with Tugger and Jemima in a decrepit bar, a belly dancer moving around the floor. A game of Chinese checkers sat between them and Tugger looked at Mac. "Your move."

Mac considered as the belly dancer moved past, dropping a note into his coat pocket. Contact achieved, he moved his pieces. "That's a bold move," Jemi remarked.

"I live on the edge," he said, taking a drink as Jemi took a significant number of Mac's pieces off the board.

"Nice move, dumbass," Tugger scoffed.

"I've given some thought to movin' off the edge. It's not an ideal location--thinkin' a place in the middle," Mac murmured.

A cry went up from a man at the bar, "A toast!  Hey, everybody shut up!  I got words."  The man was obviously drunk at the bar, "This is an a'spicious day.  We all know what day it is!"

"What day is it?" Tugger asked, leaning across the bar as Mac narrowed his eyes at the man.

The drunk continued, "A glorious day, for all the proud members of the allied planets. Unification day! The end of the scumbag independents, the dawn of a new galaxy!"

"Captain?" Jemi asked, her own eyes cold as Mac rose.

"Just feelin' the need for another drink," he murmured, walking toward the bar.

"What month is it?" Tugger asked himself, not very good at keeping track.

The man looked at Mac once he'd reached the bar, "Hey, you gonna drink t'the Alliance wi' me? Six years today, the Alliance sent the browncoats running, pissing their pants."  He paused, considering the captain, "Y'know, your coat is kinda a brownish color."

Mac offered him a cheery grin. "You think?"

"Y'know what I think?"

"What's that?" Mac asked, looking like he gave a damn.

"I'm thinkin' you're one a them independents."

"And I'm not thinkin' you weren't burdened with an overabundance of schooling. So why don't we just ignore each other, til we go away?" Mac mocked.

The guy scowled at him, "The Independents were a bunch of cowardly inbred pisspots. Shoulda been killed off of every world spinnin'."

"Say that to my face," Mac said, turning to him, posture tightly controlled.

The man spoke slowly, enunciating each word, "I said, you're a coward, and a pisspot. Now what are you gonna do about it?"

"I ain't gonna do nothin'," Mac said, grinning suddenly. "Just wanted you to face me so she could get behind you." When the man turned, Jemi slugged him hard across the face, knocking him down. "Ain't drunks just cute?" Mac grinned at her.

Pretty much the entire rest of the bar rose, looking royally pissed at the two.

"Tugger..." Jemi started.

"Hey, I didn't fight in no war," Tugger protested, having not left his seat. "Best of luck to you though."

Mac glanced at Jemi who shrugged. "Fine, let's do this."

Moments later, Mac was tossed through the window's field, landing hard on the dusty ground outside. He picked up his communicator, calling his pilot. "Pounce, we've got some local color happening. A grand entrance would not go amiss."

Jemi was fighting two men by the door, slowly being pushed outside. "Is Tugger even awake?" Mac called back to her.

The answer to that question arrived as Tugger came out of the bar, fighting a couple of men off with a barstool. Despite not fighting in any war, he could hardly pass up on a bar brawl.  The fight continued until the trio from Serenity were backed up to the edge of a very high cliff.

"Whoa!" Mac declared, glancing over and wondering where the hell his pilot was. "There's just an acre of you fellas. This is why we lost you know," he said, glancing at Jemi, who did not look impressed with him. "Superior numbers."

"Thanks for the re-enactment, sir," she said, eyes narrowing at him.

The drunk from earlier came out of the bar a huge gun in his hands, the two men beside him drew their weapons as well.

"That ain't kosher!" Tugger protested.

"I'm thinkin' someone needs to put you down, dog," he spoke to Mac. "What do you think?"

"I'm thinkin' we'd rise again," Mac said with a smirk as his ship rose from the ravine behind them.

Pounce's voice came over a loudspeaker, "Every man there go back inside, or we will blow a new crater in this little moon."  That was enough to cause the men to disband and return to their drinks.

Tugger chuckled as they walked up the gangplank moments later. "Morons don't know a transport ship ain't got no guns on it." He laughed again, moving off.

"Thank you Pounce," Mac said, nodding to his pilot.

Mistoffelees looked up from where he was working on the Mule. "What happened? Was there some terrible brawl?"

"Oddly enough, there was," Jemi said, leveling Mac with a long look.

"You been gettin' my wife in trouble again, Captain?"  Pounce looped an arm around his wife, kissing her and then turning back to his duties as pilot.

"No! I didn't start it," Mac protested. "I just wanted a quiet drink."

"Funny, sir, how you always seem to find yourself in an Alliance friendly bar come U-Day lookin' for a quiet drink."

"That's just a sign of you tragic space dementia, all paranoid and crotchety," Mac said. "Makes workin' with you hard."

Jemima rolled her eyes before going to follow her husband.

"Did we at least make contact?" Mistoffelees asked.

"Yup," Mac said. "Let's go get those goods out there in the desert and get them where they need to go."

s-s-s-s

Coricopat hesitated down the hall from the engine room before bucking up his courage and entering, "Mistoffelees?"

Looking up from where he was laying on the floor, working on the wiring of the engine, Mistoffelees blinked but didn't move. "Yeah?"

"I...I was wondering if you'd be willing to go to the carnival with me while we're in port?  I know the rest of the crew was planning to go, I just..."

That got another long blink from Mistoffelees. "And you want me to... go with you?"

"If...if you're willing to."

"I, I suppose so," he murmured, trying not to think about the last time they were off ship together. He'd been doing anything in his power to keep them from ending up in that sort of a situation again.

"I..."  The doctor offered him a hesitant smile, "thank you."

"It's not that much," Mistoffelees said, shrugging and pulling himself back under the engine. "When are we gettin' in?"

"I think Captain said about two hours yet."

"Alright," Mistoffelees said. "See you then."

The doctor hesitated but slipped out, going to double check the supply list for the infirmary The mechanic took a deep breath once he was gone, trying to focus on his work for at least another hour. He didn't think he was going to succeed too well.

s-s-s-s

A couple of hours later found them wandering through the bazaar, a booming voice ringing out over the crowd, "We are not alone! Forget what you think you know. Forget what your mother told you when she tucked you in at night, forget the lies of our oppressive, cabalistic Allied governments! Behind this curtain is the very secret they do not want you to see -- the most astounding scientific find in the history of humanity. Proof! Of Alien life. That's right, go ahead and laugh, sir, but what you see inside this room will change your life forever! It will haunt your dreams and harrow -- YES -- your very soul."

Inside the curtained booth his voice came through rather muffled.  The thick velvet curtains blocked light and sound from the outside.  Coricopat and Mistoffelees were currently in there.  The doctor frowned at something in a large, dimly lit jar--it provided the only light in the closet-like space.  He finally nodded, "Yep, it's a cow fetus."

"Guess so..." Mistoffelees frowned at it. "Has a lot of limbs for that though. How're you figuring on cow?"

"It's upside down."

"Oh," Mistoffelees craned his neck. "Yup. It's a cow."

"Yep, and we're out twelve bits.  I really do know how to show someone a..." he grimaced, "disgusting time."

"Oh, I've seen worse," Mistoffelees shrugged. "Besides, poor little thing, probably never saw the light of day, and now look, it's in show business," he said, gesturing to the jar.

That garnered a smile, "You really do find the bright side of things, don't you?"

"It's better to find them than not," Mistoffelees said with a shrug.

"That's very true," Coricopat hesitated.  "Misto, I really am sorry about what I said back on Canton.  I didn't mean it."

For a moment Mistoffelees didn't react at all, still staring firmly at the jar. "Didn't sound like you didn't mean it."

"I wasn't awake.  In ca seyou hadn't noticed when it comes to fight or flight I go for flight.  I woke up, found a threat in Mac and my brain went into flight mode, which included saying things I don't mean.  I...I didn't want him to think I would sleep with you in a place like _that_.  That's what I meant.  The night before...I..."

Mistoffelees remained looking at the jar before finally looking down. "It doesn't matter."

The doctor glanced away, "Why?"

"Why?" Mistoffelees repeated, in confusion.

"Why doesn't it matter?  Evidently it did."

"It was a while ago," Mistoffelees shrugged. "A-and... what you said..."

"Was cruel, and uncalled for.  And it hurt you."

"It's just," Mistoffelees finally looked at him. "I don't understand why you'd say it if you didn't mean it, why bother to be cruel."

"Because I'm an idiot.  I...I didn't mean to say it, I didn't mean it.  I didn't want to hurt you."

"But you keep doin' it," Mistoffelees couldn't help but say. "So your intentions aren't doin' you that much help."

The doctor shook his head, trying and failing to keep his tone even, "What do you want me to do, Mistoffelees?  I'm trying!"

"Not very hard apparently," Mistoffelees returned, drawing back slightly.

"Well, if you have suggestions on how I could possibly try harder, please do let me know.  I feel like I spend all my time trying to avoid saying the wrong thing to _someone_ on the ship, and unfortunately you seem to be the one on the receiving end when I finally do."

"Fantastic," Mistoffelees replied. "I'm sure bein' your punching bag for a bad day is the best basis for a relationship imaginable and we'll have many happy years together off that."

"That's not what I...Damn it, Mistoffelees, this is what I mean.  I'm trying, I really am.  I'm not used to this life, I'm not used to _this_ ," he motioned between them.  "I don't know what to do or how not to do what I know I shouldn't."

"I know," the mechanic murmured, voice dropping and posture slouching. "I'm sorry. But what am I supposed to do then?"

"I don't know.  I have run out of answers, and out of energy to deal with anything anymore."

That got a blink from Mistoffelees. "Oh," he managed. "Well, if you'll excuse me, I think... I think that I need to go."

"I..."  The doctor paled slightly at that, "I mean...I...'

"If you don't even have the energy..." Mistoffelees paused and shook his head. "Then nothin' else much matters, does it?" The words had actually felt as bad a slap. It meant more than Coricopat just didn't know what he was doing, it meant he wasn't worth the time or the fight or anything.

Coricopat took a half step back, "I just...I'm sorry, perhaps you're right."

It was almost like nailing a coffin shut. No fight in him at all. "Right."

There was a moment of silence before the doctor turned away, shaking his head.  He was tired of always stepping wrong, tired of being unable to fix things, tired of having no control in his life and he knew he'd just rung the death knell on the last possible thing that might have fallen into any of those categories.  If the mechanic left he wasn't sure he wanted to see him do so.

Mistoffelees was fairly sure he shouldn't bother to stay or continue the conversation. He really should turn and walk away and leave it alone. "Am I really that exhausting?" he asked instead.

Coricopat turned to face the other, his eyes wide, "No, good God you're the only thing that isn't.  The only thing in this insanity that feels like it makes sense.  Even if I'm not entirely sure it does..."

"Then why...?" Mistoffelees tried.

"Why...?" He sighed, "Because I'm a fool?  Because I'm terrified of what might come of it, or what might not?"

Stepping forward, Mistoffelees hesitantly held out his hand. "What might?"

"I don't know.  Any number of things I suppose..."

The mechanic managed not to sigh.

"What do you want me to say?  I don't know what could come of it, or rather what would be allowed to come of it."

"Allowed?" Mistoffelees frowned.

The doctor looked at him for a long moment, "Do you really think Tugger, Macavity, hell even Griddlebone would stand for anything between us?"

Mistoffelees abruptly snatched his hand back from where he'd been leaving it between them. "You think I would give a damn what any of them thought about it? You honestly think that?"

"Honestly think what?  That you'd choose your family over me?  Yes."

"You think my family as you call them would ever make me choose?" he returned.

"They've made no secret of their dislike of the idea.  Or at the very least of me."

Taking a breath, the shorter ran a hand through his dark hair. "So what, you're sayin' this is pointless from the start because of what _other people_ might think?"

"No…I mean...maybe?"

Mistoffelees just shook his head. "You know, Grids was actually rooting for you there for a while."

"And I've managed to alienate that by treating you as I have been," the taller man pointed out.

"Then stop... treatin' me like that and what's the issue?"

"I say things like that once in a great while, not daily.  I'm sorry that thus far you've been the one receiving them, but I don't know how to try to do more than I already am."

Mistoffelees considered him. "You're an amazin' man, you know?" he said softly. "You managed to stare down the entire Alliance to get your sister out of danger. You start live over entirely. You save lives and make it look easy--you saved mine. So why is this so hard? Why does it kill you to be polite? Why does it hurt so much to be nice to me?"

"I have been polite, I've been courteous and respectful, and yet the only times that seem to be remembered are the times I'm _not_ ," Coricopat returned hotly.

"Maybe because they're just so memorable," Mistoffelees said softly. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry if that's the only thing I'm rememberin'."

Coricopat shook his head, "I don't know what to do, Mistoffelees.  I really don't."

"I... I can't really tell you..." Mistoffelees said, looking away and his shoulders tensing.

"Then we're at an impasse.  Again."

"I can't live my life at an impasse,” he said quietly.

"Then...I...I don't know."

Mistoffelees considered him a long moment. "Shouldn't this be easier?"

"Easier?  Than what?"

"Then what it currently is?" Mistoffelees offered. "People been figurin' out this stuff for centuries after all."

Coricopat sighed, "I don't know.  Maybe it should be, but I sure don't see how."

The mechanic considered him and shook his head. "Someone else is going to want the booth soon. You ever figure it out then let me know but I can't do this. Not like it is."

The doctor finally nodded, "Very well."

"God," Mistoffelees muttered, shaking his head. He turned to go and abruptly turned back. "You know how this is supposed to go?" he asked.

"How what is supposed to go?"

Mistoffelees stepped forward quickly, hand twisting in the front of Coricopat's shirt and pulling him down into a kiss. The doctor tensed at that, having not been expecting it in the least.  His hands fluttered for a moment before moving to rest on Mistoffelees' shoulders, though whether to push him away or pull him closer he wasn't certain.  He wasn't given much time to decide as Mistoffelees stepped back. "Like that," he breathed and met Coricopat's eyes for a long moment before turning away again.

The doctor stood, watching him go in shock.  He startled and turned slightly as another couple entered the booth, Pounce's voice cutting through the silence, "My god, it's grotesque.  Oh, look honey, there's something in a jar."

Jemi gave him a long look and went to look back at Coricopat, having seen Mistoffelees' face as he was leaving. "Scare him away again?"

Coricopat shot Pounce a dark look, but the pilot was already examining the thing in the jar and ignoring him. "This may come as a surprise to you, but I'm not especially good at talking to him."

"Is there someone you are good at talkin' to?" Jemi asked, arching a brow.

"He could try communing with that thing," Pounce nodded to the creature, "it can't run off when he insults it."

Coricopat's eyes narrowed at the pilot but he shook his head, "Apparently not."

Jemi patted his shoulder. "Give it time. Misto's actually not that hard to talk to, if you relax. Know that's askin' a lot of you but..."

"That's a comfort," he murmured, only narrowly avoiding sounding sarcastic.

She patted him again. "Well, it's not like you don't have half the ship waitin' for you to do it."

He blinked at that, "Seriously?"

"Seriously I'm surprised no one's tried lockin' you in the passenger dorms and refused to let you come out unconsummated yet," she replied.

He took a solid step away from her, "Good to know."

"Oh, I'm not sayin' it will happen," she said, giving him a long look. "Just that it's somethin' being talked about."

"Yeah, thanks.  I...should head out."

Jemima finally nodded, looking back at her husband and the jar. "So what do you even think that is?"

Pounce shrugged, "Some creature or other..."

"A cow fetus," Coricopat tossed over his shoulder as he exited, heading for the agreed meeting place.

Jemima blinked, tilting her head. "Huh."

The pilot frowned in confusion, "A cow?"

"Upside down," his wife said, sliding her arm around his waist and pointing. "And some extra limbs."

He tilted his head, blinking at it for a moment and then nodded, "Oh, I guess I see it now."

"I'm sure you'll have the chance to meet an alien someday, dear."

"If we've come this far from Earth that was and still haven’t found any?  I doubt it.  Ah well..." Pounce sounded almost despondent.

"Maybe someday," Jemi soothed again. "But for today... there is a cow."

"With extra limbs," her husband supplied. Smiling, she pulled him a little closer, enjoying having a moment to themselves rather than the constant bustle of the ship.


	15. While I'm Tryin' to Protect the Younglings from Followin' Your Example

Griddlebone made her way through the bazaar, sidestepping a couple of insistent vendors.  Her blue silk robe flowed around her as she moved.  Glancing up at the man she was walking next to she shook her head slightly, "Do you ever wonder what life would be like if we weren't...us?"

"You gotta be more specific," Mac said, catching a pickpocket by the collar, holding a hand out for his money and letting the boy go without a comment.

"I don't really know if I can be," she answered, watching the people milling about.

"You mean, not like us as in... different jobs? Different pasts? Different... interests?" he managed finally, trying to track her gaze while on the lookout for other pick pockets and scammers.

"Different jobs I suppose...Maybe interests."

"Not sure I can imagine you with another job," Mac tried to laugh. "What on earth that was would you be doin'?"

She frowned at him, "Nothing apparently, if that's all I can be imagined doing."

"I said I had a time imaginin' you doing something different," he said, giving her a long look. "Don't mean you can't imagine somethin' different. I'm curious now."

"Oh I don't know.  Surely there has to be something, though."

"Well, if you brought it up, surely there's gotta be somethin'?"

"Nothing specific, I was just thinking out loud is all."

He considered her a long moment before nodding. "If you say so..."

"But have you ever wondered?  What life would be like if one thing was different?"

"Sure, sometimes," Mac said with a shrug. He refused to admit wondering about Griddlebone though. "Me, I would have ended up a farm hand without the war though. Not sure which sort of life I would have preferred anymore."

The companion looked up at him, "I don't know if I could imagine you as a farm hand and not roaming the outer rim."

"Well, not sure it would have been farm hand and not farm owner but," he shrugged. "My ma ran the farm and I ran around it. I was good with the horses though."

"It seems a life that would have suited parts of you, but I think it may have driven you mad too..."

"Probably," Mac said. "I don't know, there's somethin' appealin' in thinking about runnin' a place right and havin' a steady sort of life. But it means bein' in the same place all the time, and the Alliance certainly wasn't content to let me stay there like I wanted. So here we are."

She paused for a moment before slipping her arm through his, "Well, it isn't a steady sort of life, but you do run Serenity well."

"Bits of it are steady," he said, glancing down at her arm but loosening his own arm and holding it up to allow her better to leave it there.

"Yes, and those bits are quite steady."

"Are they?" he asked, giving her a sideways look. She'd threatened to leave once after all.

Griddlebone nodded slightly, "You've built a good home, a moderately safe one, and a strong family out in the black, Macavity."

"Still out in the black though," he said, approaching the post office.

She nodded, "It is, but is that so bad?"

"It can be," he said, as Mistoffelees approached.

Grids glanced toward the mechanic, pausing at his expression, "Hello, Misto."

"Hey you," he murmured as Mac went to talk to the postman, glancing back in some worry.

Griddlebone moved over, wrapping an arm around Mistoffelees, "Do aliens live among us then?"

"Yes, and one of them is a doctor," Mistoffelees said, leaning his head against her shoulder. "I just don't understand him."

"Hey there, Amnon, you said you got some post for me?" Mac said, shaking hands with the postmaster.

Grids simply stroked the young man's hair at that.  Amnon offered the captain a smile, "Macavity, good to see you.  You've got quite the haul today.  You can sign for everyone right?"

"Sure," he said, accepting the paperwork and starting to fill it out.

Amnon headed into the back room of the post office as Cohen approached, Tantomile with him.

They were both carrying something that looked like a mace and chain, a ball of ice cream and cookie hanging from a string. "My food is problematic," Tantomile complained.

Tugger chuckled as he followed. "Hey, Mac, got the ammo. Got a good discount too, on account of my intimidatin' manner."

"Good," Mac said, still filling out the form and holding out a hand for the change. When Tugger gave him a sum the Captain gave him a long look until Tugger dug out the rest of it, handing that over too.

Amnon wheeled out a large crate, tossing a couple of smaller packages on the counter, "The big one's addressed to you and Jemi, Mac."

"I don't  remember orderin' any parts," Mac remarked as Jemi and Pounce arrived. "Did you?"

"No, sir," Jemima shook her head.

"Misto?" Mac asked, "Order any parts under my name?"

"No," the mechanic replied.

Amnon shrugged, "Well, it's addressed to you.  And the little one here's for Tugger."

"I got post?" he asked, looking up in excitement.

The man offered it to him as Coricopat arrived, placing himself near Tantomile rather than risk being near Mistoffelees.

Mac and Jemi started looking over their own package as Tugger tore open the package, picking up the letter and reading it slowly, as if working out the words as he went. "My dear boy, I hope you are well and that you get this soon in your travels," he stumbled over the word. "Thank you for the credits you forwarded, they have helped as Matt is still sick with the Damp-lung. I made you the enclosed--oh! Enclosed!" and he began riffling through the package as Jemi found a crowbar to set about opening the larger one.

Pounce moved over to his wife, offering a hand if she wanted it.

Tugger pulled out a hat that was orange, yellow and red, knitting with earflaps and with a happy looking pom-pom on top. Putting it on as soon as it was out of the box, he finished the letter. "Enclosed to keep you warm in your travels. Hope to hear from you soon, love, your mother." He finally looked back up as Jemi got the top off the crate, not much needing her husband's help. "How's it sittin'?" Tugger asked.

Pouncival's brows rose at the sight of the hat, "Man walks down the street in that hat, people know he's not afraid of anything."

"It's sweet," Mistoffelees said, smiling fondly at Tugger.

"Hope we get something sweet too," Mac said as they got the cover off, pausing at the box inside the crate, and freezing when that opened to reveal a corpse.

A silence struck the other members of the crew who were gathered around.  Long looks passed between a couple of them before Pounce finally spoke, "Who is he?"

"'Straps," Mac said, voice sounding hollow. "It don't make any kind of sense. Jems?"

"I got nothin' but it's him," she replied.

"Is it possible it's a warning of some sort?"  Grids asked quietly.

Amnon looked about ready to panic, "Listen, Mac, you gotta get this thing out of my station. No objections. Human transport on a postal route is very, very illegal. If anyone even knows I took a corpse in, I'll lose my franchise."

"Who sent it?" Mac demanded, turning to him as Jemi slowly started packing it back up. Mistoffelees just looked stricken.

"Don't know.  There's no return," the postmaster replied.

"How long's it been here then?" Mac asked.

"Near a week.  It's why I waved you."  Amnon shook his head, "This can't stay here."

"He don't smell," Tugger frowned.

"Been decently preserved," Mac said and nodded to Jemi, who didn't need to be asked to give him a hand. They lifted the crate together.

"We takin' him on board?" Tugger asked.

"We are," Mac returned, and his glare shut Tugger up.

Cohen and Pounce both stepped forward to lend a hand.

"We got it," Jemi replied, ignoring the expression on her husband's face.

The pilot looked briefly hurt at that, but simply fell in to follow them with the others. Making their way back to the ship, Mac and Jemi carefully deposited the box in the cargo bay, opening it back up to actually consider what the hell Munkustrap was doing in their hold.

"How we know he don't got no plague or somethin'?" Tugger demanded from where he was sitting on the stairs, hat still firmly on.

Pounce spoke, standing not far behind his wife, "Tugger's got a point.  I mean, I respect you all have a history and whatnot, but...."

"If you would like," Coricopat glanced at Macavity, "I could perform a proper autopsy.  As his friends, and at the moment only people who can say yea or nae that is up to you two."

"You wanna cut him up?" Mistoffelees protested.

"Not now, doctor," Mac said, shaking his head. Coricopat nodded, stepping back at that.

Jemi leaned down while they were talking, having noticed something in the boy's hands. Taking it gently, she help up a small recorder and turned it on.

The voice that came from the recorder started uncertain, weak, and breathless.  As he continued the words and emotions grew stronger, "Okay. Um, recording... Hi, I guess. This is a message for Jemi, and for Macavity Hollister, so I really hope you all are the ones listening to it. I'll spare you the boring details, falling in with untrustworthy folk, making a bunch of bad calls... All that matters is I expect to be shuffled off, and you two are the only people I trust to get me where I'm going. Which is home. I'd like my body to be with my folks on St. Albans. We got the family plot there, and my Mom and dad, well, they deserve to know I died."

 A humorless laugh that was little more than a huff of breath followed, "You know, it's funny. We went to the war never looking to come back, but it's the real world I couldn't survive. You two carried me through that war. Now I need you to carry me just a little bit further. If you can. Tell my folks I wanted to do right by them and that I'm at peace and all. Ah. When you can't run anymore, you crawl, and when you can't do that... well, you both know the rest. Thanks, both of you. Oh. Yeah. And, uh... Make sure my eyes're closed, will you?  No need for Mom to see my baby blues not seeing anything."

Mac's face was expressionless as the recording finally turned off, Jemi looking down at it. "Never thought it'd be him," she said softly. Pounce reached a hand out to his wife, but lowered it and headed for the stairs, stepping around Tugger.

Following his movement's, Mac frowned slightly. "Pounce?"

"St. Albans is just a few days ride, we burn hard enough.  Five at our usual rate."

Mac considered him and nodded. "Do it then, but don't hard burn quite yet." He glanced back at Griddlebone who had remained silent. "This might make your schedule a little tight."

The companion shook her head, "That's fine."

He nodded before looking around. "Anyone else goin' to be put out by this? Speak now or don't."

Everyone else shook their heads.  This was something that had to be done

"Good," Mac said, turning to put the top back on the box, Jemi once again helping once she set the recorder down on a crate. Hesitating a moment, Mistoffelees picked the recorder up. Coricopat hesitated before he turned to retreat to the infirmary.  Cohen slipped away to the kitchen, offering a silent prayer for the young man whose body now rested in the hold.

s-s-s-s

Several hours later found Macavity and Jemima sharing stories about their former wayward companion in the dining room, Mistoffelees and Griddlebone listening.

Macavity was just in the middle of a story. "Oh, this colonel he was dead drunk. Three hours pissing on about the enlisted me, they're scum, they ain't fighters, and then he just passed right out, mid rant."

"We couldn't even move him," Jemi added. "So what did Munku do? He snipped it right off his face."

"And you will never see a man more proud of this mustache than Colonel Orbrin. In all my life I will never love a woman the way this officer loved that lip ferret."

Griddlebone hid a smile, "Did he find out?"

Mac and Jemi looked at each other and burst out laughing again. "Oh! The next morning, he wakes up to find it gone, and he's furious, but he can't just say "someone stole my mustache" so he calls together all the platoons--"

"We thought he was going to shoot us--" Jemi added.

"And he's eyeballing up all the men somethin' fierce," Mac cracked up again. "And we ain't sayin'g a word then he comes up to 'Straps, and... and 'Straps is wearing the gorram thing on his face."

"He had it glued on," Jemi said.

The companion laughed at that, "Now that's guts.  Surely the colonel said _something_ at that point?"

"Didn’t have a chance, thank god," Jemi said, shaking her head.

"Got bombed right about then," Mac added. "Only time I was glad the Alliance took no qualms in randomly attackin' or else I don't think 'Straps would have survived the day."

Jemi rolled her eyes. "I'm surprised he survived any of them, droppin' his weapon to eat beans like he tended to."

"Oh that was when he just got in," Mac protested. "Not all battle hardened yet."

"Do you know how stupid that was?" Jemima protested.

"I'm sure you told him."

Grids glanced between the two of them, asking softly, "Which battle was that?"

They looked at each other. "The..." Mac started.

"Battle of Du-Khang," Jemi supplied.

"Right, when we got all those new recruits who didn't last much of the battle," Mac said, expression darkening.

"Did you know you had totally ruined my lecture to him?" Jemi asked, noticing the expression.

"What?" Mac protested. "Me?"

"Yes you," his second said, giving him a long look. "Tryin' to tell him the first rule of battle was not lettin' the enemy know where you are and then you come blazin' through the next second, gun goin' off everywhere and screaming, here I am! I'm right here! Tauntin' the enemy all over the place while I'm tryin' to protect the younglings from followin' your example."

That garnered a subdued smile from Grids, "Other schools of thought, then?"

Jemi rolled her eyes. "Mac was the only officer who taunted the enemy that much in the war and survived. We were tryin' to encourage others not to follow his example."

That got a small laugh from Mistoffelees finally. Coricopat chose that moment to enter the room, pausing at the sight of the occupants.

"My example was doin' just fine," Mac protested.

"Sir, you would randomly assume all sorts of identities not your own and hand off colonel badges to privates."

"Only when they were dead," Mac replied, looking up at Coricopat as Mistoffelees refused to look at the doctor. "A drink, doc?"

"I..." he hesitated, but sat down, in a seat near the others, but not next to Mistoffelees, "If you don't mind."

"Go for it," Mac said, gesturing to the open bottle.

The doctor poured himself a cup of the alcohol, sipping at it, "I wasn't interrupting something was I?"

"Just some old stories," Mac said with a shrug. "Might as well hold some sort of wake."

That earned a faint nod, "I suppose so.  He...appears to have been in decent health, from the brief glimpses I got of him."

Mac frowned. "Really?"

"From what I could see.  There didn't appear to be a mark on him, either, no real indication of why he would be...well..."

The captain frowned and glanced at Jemima. "Could you check and see if you can figure it out then?"

"I can _try_ , but I can't guarantee anything."

"Well, give it a check," Mac said, voice purposefully emotionless rather than deal with what he was actually feeling. "See if you can find anythin'. If not, then we might discuss an autopsy."

Coricopat nodded, rising, "I'll need help getting him to the infirmary..."

Jemi's mouth thinned slightly. "Don't worry, you'll have help," Mac said, standing with no issue, the alcohol he'd just consumed apparently not affecting him.

Mistoffelees looked up at the captain. "How do you manage that?" he muttered, aware if he tried standing it would not go nearly so well.

The doctor nodded slightly, slipping out of the room and heading down to the hold. Patting Mistoffelees on the head, Mac and Jemi followed the doctor.

s-s-s-s

Less than a quarter hour later found them in the infirmary, Munksutrap's body on the examination table, sans shirt. Coricopat frowned slightly, "There are no lethal wounds, no unhealed needle marks, nothing that would explain--" He broke off, leaning closer and tracing a finger in a "t" over the other man's abdomen, "He's been cut open."

"What?" Mac asked, expression darkening as Mistoffelees leaned against the doorway, watching.

"There's a faint scar here.  Same place anyone would cut for an autopsy.  It's healed though, nearly imperceptible."

"What's that mean?" Jemi asked.

"It means someone opened him up and either put something in or took something out.  The length of the scars implies the former.  It happened long enough before he died that the scars were able to heal, though."  He looked at the captain and first mate, "It means he was alive when they cut him open, one can only hope under anesthesia."

Mac's expression turned murderous. "Usin' bodies to smuggle stuff ain't new," he murmured.

"Do you think Munkustrap was involved in somethin' like that?" Jemi asked, eyes darting to Mac's face.

The captain's mouth twisted. "We could find out..."

The doctor hesitated, "You two have the final say on that."

Looking back over to Jems, Mac finally nodded. "Figure out what was goin' on," he murmured.

Coricopat nodded very slightly, going and finding a scalpel.  He returned to Munkustrap's side and drew a deep breath before starting the first cut.  Nearly dropping the knife, the doctor startled back as his patient screamed in pain and sat bolt upright, his blue eyes darting about frantically.  He focused on the first movement, Coricopat taking a step nearer to see to the cut he'd just made.  Munkustrap acted on instinct, seeing the glint of the knife.  He leaped off the table, catching the man by the wrist and twisting until the blade fell.  He slammed the doctor up against the wall, only half-aware of others present.

"'Straps!" Mac yelled, pulling him back off the doctor. When the other struggled, Mac ended up pinning him down on the ground, straddling him. "Settle down! Settle!" he barked as an order. "That's enough!"

The dark-haired man struggled, but stilled as his mind recognized an order from a commanding officer, "He was cutting into me, Sarge!"

"Yeah, I know. I told him to," Mac said, still holding him down.

"You _what_?"  He tried to push Mac off again, "Why?"

"You were dead!"

"I...What?  Oh."  He stilled, "Suppose I was."  Munkustrap tilted his head, spotting Jemima, "Hey, Jems."

"Private," she greeted, still stony face.

"You feelin' calmer now?" Mac asked.

Munkustrap nodded, "You mind lettin' me up, Sarge?" Macavity paused a moment before nodding, pushing himself back and holding out a hand to help the other up as well.

Standing in the doorway still, Mistoffelees blinked rapidly at everything he'd just seen.

Munkustrap looked a bit unsteady on his feet, but he moved over to lever himself up onto the exam table.  He glanced around, his gaze focusing on Mistoffelees for a long moment as Coricopat moved over to tend the wound.  The former soldier looked apologetic, "Sorry for jumping on you the way I did. I was a little confounded."

"Emerging from that state can be disorienting. Was it byphodine?"  The doctor worked quickly and efficiently, trying not to focus too much on the whole situation, rather on his work.

"More than that," Mac said, stepping forward. "You want to explain to me why you got yourself all corpseiefied and mailed to me? What you runnin' from?"

"Running to, not from," Munkustrap corrected. "I just wanted to get home is all. That's all I ever wanted. 'cept there's them that take exception to that. To me leaving... while I was in possession of their property..."  He looked a bit queasy and the doctor handed him a bedpan.  The newly revived man leaned over it, emptying what little there was in his stomach into it, "Sorry..."

"Side-effects of that state," Coricopat replied, taking the bedpan and setting it aside.

"What'd you boost them?" Mac demanded.

"I...Well..."

Coricopat cut in, his gaze fixed on a monitor, "Captain, I hate to interrupt but...this man appears to be in cardiac arrest."

There was a sharp laugh from Munksutrap at that point, "Don't pay any attention to your machines, doc. They'll lie to you. Heart's just fine. Better'n fine. Just runs a little hotter'n usual, that's all."

The doctor peered at the monitors, shaking his head, "My god... it's not just the heart muscle... it's everything..."

"All the movin' parts." Munkus agreed, "That's what I took, Mac. That's what they want back."

Mac stared at him a long moment. "You're tellin' me you... stole body parts?"

"Don't look at me like that.  They're lab grown, not from someone who was alive."

"Well that's just a mite reassuring," Mac said. "Considerin' everything else is insane."

"Should we... feed him or somethin'?" Mistoffelees asked from the doorway. "If he's been out near a week."

Coricopat glanced toward Mistoffelees, Munkustrap's gaze moving to the mechanic as well.  "Well I certainly wouldn't say no to a bite to eat..."

"It might be better to wait an hour or so," the doctor advised.

"Oh," Mistoffelees murmured. "Can we get him anythin' that'd be more comfortable or do you still need him in here?"

The doctor frowned but shook his head, "No.  He should be alright to go.  If anything starts to feel off, though I want him back in here as quickly as possible."

"Come on," Mistoffelees said, reaching for his hand to pull the other man off the table. "There's a couch in the dining area."

Munksutrap hesitated before offering the smaller man a smile and taking the offered hand, "Lead on."

Offering him a smile in return, Mistoffelees turned and Macavity blinked at that. Coricopat watched as they left, his eyes narrowing.  He quickly turned away to clean the infirmary up and deal with things.

Exchanging a look with Jemi, Mac scowled. He adored 'Straps, had for years, but suddenly he didn't want him left alone with his mechanic. Moving quickly to follow, that left Jemi with Coricopat. "Sure you want to stay back here?" she asked, voice low.

"I've struck out enough times with him, I'd rather not be reminded of that fact at the moment."

She arched a brow at that but didn't comment, following the other group slowly. The doctor sighed heavily.  She was probably right, time spent alone was time he would spend brooding which he didn't need, but he didn't want to deal with it at that time.

 


	16. You Could Give Me a Map

Meanwhile, Mistoffelees had sat Munkustrap down on the more comfortable end of the couch, Tugger blinking from where he was sitting at the table. "Uh, wasn't he dead?"

Munkustrap looked up, offering the other man a bit of a smile, "Only technically."

Tugger still looked disturbed as Mistoffelees moved to start boiling water, as beverages were the only real luxury they had on the ship. "Dead's a technicality now?" Tugger asked, looking up at Mac, who shrugged.

Coming down from the bridge, Tantomile stopped dead in the doorway, staring wide eyed at the awakened man.

Munkustrap glanced at Tantomile, offering her a bit of a lopsided smile, "Hello there."

She glanced once at Mistoffelees, taking a step back. "The dead aren't supposed to walk," she said, voice frantic and the mechanic stopped, putting the cup he was holding down.

"Hon?" he started, taking a step toward her.

"The dead leave their trouble at the door," she continued, shaking her head. "They don't cause a chase. Insides all scrambled and scooped out aren't supposed to take that along." Her words were getting more scrambled as she talked and she suddenly stopped dead, nailing Munkustrap with her gaze. "You shouldn't have come here."

Munkustrap blinked slowly at her, "How did you know that...?"

She shook her head quickly. "When you go to sleep you should stay there."

He eyed her warily, "I...see."

Tant's eyes narrowed at him as she looked toward Mistoffelees who was standing there, shocked. "Be careful of stepping on the berry patch," she said and turned, running off down the hall.

Munkustrap gaped after her, "Who was that?"

From where he was in the other doorway, even Macavity was staring in shock. "A passenger," he said. "Apparently havin' one of her bad days."

"Apparently..."  Munkus shook his head, glancing at Mac, "She might not be wrong though."

"Bout what?" Mac asked, expression closing off as Mistoffelees looked between them.

"The people I was smuggling for...they don't take too kindly to their profit walkin' off."

For a long moment the captain considered him. "You ain't brought trouble to us yet. The moment you do, then we'll talk. For now, we're headin' toward your home and we'll drop you off there, like you asked."

Munkus offered him a bit of a smile at that, "Thanks, Mac."

"Not entirely sure what you're thankin' me for at this juncture," he replied.

"Still takin' me home, even though my bet is it's a good distance outta your way."

"Several days," Mac said.

"Sorry about that."

Shrugging again, the captain strode across the dining room, heading for the cockpit. "You know the sayin'," he murmured.

Munkustrap sighed, watching him go, "He really ain't all that pleased with me."

"Well," Mistoffelees ducked his head down. "Seems a pretty elaborate trick."

"To get home you mean?  It...kind of had to be."

"Cos of the people you got in trouble with?" Mistoffelees asked, finally handing him a warm cup.

"Thanks," the other man murmured as he took the cup.  "Yeah, cause of them."

"Well, it's the Capt," Mistoffelees said with a small shrug. "I don't think he'd be very happy if he didn't get to be angry with someone at least once a week."

Munkustrap chuckled at that, "Sounds about right."

"It sounded like you were close, durin' the war."

"We were.  Him and me and Jems."

"But you weren't at the last battle," Mistoffelees said, trying to piece together the stories he'd heard and history. "At Serenity."

"No.  I got myself injured before that, got sent home for a while.  By the time I was fit again the war was over."

"That must have been... difficult," Mistoffelees said, sitting down beside him.

Munkustrap nodded, his gaze focused on his drink, "Didn’t feel right, healing up when people was dyin'.  I didn't even know who'd made it out til weeks after the battle."

Nodding, Mistoffelees sipped at his own cup, shifting a bit closer. "I heard you ended up shaving off a colonel's moustache..."

That earned a bit of a laugh, "Yeah, man he was mad about that one..."

"Can you tell me more?" Mistoffelees asked, looking at him over the cup. "About yourself, anything like that."

"Pretty broad topic, there.  What would you like to know?"

"I don't know," Mistoffelees smiled. "I've heard some about the war, and can guess as to what happened afterwards. What about before?"

"Before?  Well, I grew up on the same rock my parents live on now.  Not an easy life, but we made do.  Jsut me, my older sister and our parents.  Small town, but a good one, honest folk."

"Well," Mistoffelees considered. "What made you join the war, anyway?"

"Didn't like what the Alliance was proposing.  Didn't feel right.  Didn't sound right."

That got a tiny smile out of Mistoffelees. "You were one of the lucky ones, to survive it."

That earned a bitter smile, "Lucky, right."

"You're still here," Mistoffelees said, resting a hand on his knee. "Don't that mean somethin'?"

Munkustrap paused for a moment, covering the other's hand with his own, "Means I survived.  Don't always mean I'm lucky."

"Gotta change at some point?" Mistoffelees smiled brightly at him.

That earned a grin, "Guess that's true.  What about you?"

"What about me?" Mistoffelees asked, starting to tug his hand back and blushing.

"Well, you know at least a bit about me, but I don't think I even know your name."  Munkustrap let him draw his hand away, but turned slightly so he was facing Mistoffelees more, resting his elbow against the back of the couch and his head on his hand.

"Oh," he blushed deeper, setting the cup down and holding out his right hand. "Mistoffelees Quaxo, nice to meet you."

"And you, Mistoffelees."  He shook the other's hand, "Munkustrap, though I suppose y' already knew that.  Any nickname you can come up with off of that I've probably heard and'll answer to."

The smaller man grinned. "I don't know, I like the full name. Bit of a mouth full day to day, but I like it."

That earned another bright smile, "Not a lot of people say that, but thanks.  I like it better that way too."

"So, aside from the war and smugglin'... what do you make of your time?"

"Depends on where I'm at.  Dancin' can be a nice distraction sometimes."

"Dancin'?" Mistoffelees asked in some surprised, trying to not think about the dance that Coricopat had proposed that never materialized.

Munkustrap nodded at that, "Not really good at it, but I can dance some, nothin' fancy of course."

"Well, one doesn't need to be fancy to dance," Mistoffelees said. "It's about the feelin', ain't it?"

"I sure think so.  Dancin's gotta have a spark to it."

"Yeah," Mistoffelees agreed with a smile. "It's about the joy of the dance, not the technical moves."

Munkustrap hesitated, "You think you'd be willin' to dance with me before we land sometime?"

"Been offered dances that never happened before," Mistoffelees said, hesitating a moment.

"Find some music, we could dance tonight," the other man offered quietly.

"Tonight's only in a couple hours," Mistoffelees said. "Least night time ship's clock." Suddenly he started from the couch. "I should start dinner, it's gotten late."

Munkustrap rose carefully, "Can I give you a hand?"

The mechanic paused, looking him over. "If you like..." he said, swallowing.

"If you'd rather I didn't, I don't have to, but I would like to help."

"Just so long as you feel up to it," he said with a soft smile.

Munkustrap returned the smile, "I think I'm up to helping make dinner."

"Here then," Mistoffelees said, passing him a bowl and starting instructions on preparing the meal.

The other man set to work, following the directions and in very little time the two of them had a decent meal set for the rest of the crew.

After dinner, Munkustrap was waiting in the cargo hold for Mistoffelees.  The smaller man had said he was going to find the music for them and meet him there. Moments later Mistoffelees appeared in the doorway from the kitchen, brandishing the music player. "I knew I had some thing," he said.

Munkustrap offered him a smile, "Wonderful.  Shall we then?"

Suddenly shifting, as if second guessing this idea, Mistoffelees took a moment before nodding. He set the player on a crate and fiddled with it a moment before the strains of music could be heard. "Your dance?" he offered.

The taller man nodded slightly, "If you don't mind."

"Certainly not..."

Holding out his hand to the other, Munkustrap took the lead's position. Mistoffelees folded into the follow's position with little trouble, resting his hands against Munkustrap's. The former soldier guided him smoothly through the dance, sweeping him around the cargo bay, his smile brightening as the dance continued.

Returning the smile, Mistoffelees let himself forget about everything else except for the dance for a moment. It had been a very long time and he'd forgotten just how much he loved the movements and the music and feeling another person that close by. Munkustrap led him into a spin, bringing him back in and reveling in the flow of the music and the steps.  The way Mistoffelees moved was a music in itself, and he was more than willing to encourage it. The shorter man laughed, flowing through the movements.

The sound of music slowly started drawing the rest of the crew, Macavity leaning against the railing of the walkway above the hold, a slight frown between his brows at first but a smile gracing his face as he watched them enjoying themselves.

Griddlebone emerged from her shuttle, watching as the couple below moved smoothly through their dance.  She leaned on the railing next to Mac, glancing at him and then returning her gaze to the dancers.

Arriving from the dining room, Tugger stopped at that, unsure what to feel as the dance continued across the hold. It was certainly a happier use for the cargo hold than usual.

Even Pounce came out of the cockpit, perching himself on the stairs, his head tilted on one side as he considered them.  He glanced up at a motion from the direction of the passenger quarters.  Coricopat stood there, his expression impassive, though there was something cold in his eyes. Mistoffelees didn't even notice Coricopat as the first song came to an end, just offering Munkustrap a broad smile.

Munkustrap returned the smile, "May I have another dance?"

"But of course," he murmured, still grinning.

"Oi," Mac called. "Anyone else on the ship allowed in on this or what?"

The taller dancer looked up, grinning, "You're welcome to join, Sarge.  Anyone who can hear the music and find a partner's welcome."

"Pretty sure the whole ship hears the music," Mac muttered, glancing around and realizing how true that was. He glanced at Griddlebone and away again. "Partners are the only issue..."

Munkustrap's attention had already returned to Mistoffelees, "Would you like to lead this one?"

Mistoffelees couldn't stop grinning. "I don't mind following," he replied. Munkustrap returned the smile, guiding the smaller man into another dance.

Griddlebone glanced at Macavity, offering him a bit of a smile, "Well, partners can't be all that hard to find..."

"Well, I," Mac started and gave up, holding a hand out to Griddlebone. "Would you like to reprise our dance without me havin' to punch anyone in the face this time?"

She smiled, taking his hand, "I would love to."

Jemi offered her husband a single arched brow as Tantomile wandered into the hold, stopping by her brother. Pounce grinned up at his wife, "Shall we join them?"

"So long as we're both here," she said, taking his hand. Now several pairs moved around the cargo hold.

Coricopat glanced at his sister, "What?"

Tantomile looked unimpressed at her brother. "You aren't dancing.'

He shook his head, "I haven't anyone to dance with, unless you'll dance with me."

"You're missing the point," she returned. "Boob."

Coricopat's eyes narrowed, "Thank you, Tant.  I'm not dancing.  No."

"You should be," she said, glancing out at the dancers and back at him.

"Why?  I've ruined my chances more times than I can count.  Let him have a chance with someone else."

She considered him a long moment. "You're a boob," she repeated. "Letting the world walk off with the moon."

Her brother sighed, "What am I supposed to do?  If the world is happier with the moon then let him have it."

She shook her head. "That's why you're an idiot. You don't know what makes the world happy."

"All I do is anger him,” Coricopat replied, starting to sound surly as his sister continued to press him.

"That's what you think," she said, frowning and tapping something on her brother's arm. "You're rather one dimensional."

"What do you mean, Tant?"

"Only paying attention to his mouth, not his eyes or heartbeat."

"Heart..."  He sighed again, "Not tonight, Tant.  Please."

She frowned at him, clearly unhappy and finally shrugged. "Fine," she said and turned, looking around the room again before walking up to Tugger, the only one besides Coricopat currently there and not dancing. Coricopat watched for another long moment before slinking away, watching Mistoffelees and Munkustrap was just a bit too much.

Tugger arched a brow as Tantomile approached. "Dance," she said, holding out a hand.

The taller mercenary just blinked in shock at that. "Come again?"

"I want to dance and you're the only one not," she said, "If you don't know how I'll teach you where to put your feet."

"I know how to dance!" he protested, sounding quite offended that he wouldn't--though it was a simple enough thing to assume about him.

She smiled quite serenely. "Then prove it, wayward gun."

He blinked a moment at that, unsure what to make either of the teenage girl standing in front of him or her nickname. Mumbling something, he grabbed the outreached hand, pulling her out into the cargo hold.

Griddlebone kept her attention mostly on Macavity though she glanced over, chuckling at Tugger, "Well would you look at that?"

Glancing over, Mac nearly missed the next figure of the dance entirely. "That's not a sight I ever expected to see in this life time."

"He's not half bad."

"Which is another thing I never expected in this life time," Mac laughed.

Griddlebone nodded, "Agreed."  She glanced toward Mistoffelees and Munkustrap, "They make a decent pair."

"Thought you were rootin' for the doctor," Mac said, voice dropping so only she would hear it.

"I..." she sighed, "I am.  But that doesn't change the fact that Munkustrap makes a good pair with Mistoffelees, and perhaps a healthier one as well..."

"Little early to be makin' that sort of a claim," Mac frowned.

"Early, yes.  And at this point it isn't much more than mutual attraction, not even affection, but that doesn't mean it can't be,” she returned.

Mac paused, nodding. Part of him wasn't sure he wanted someone from the war to be with his mechanic, but he'd cared for Munkustrap during the war. He was just trying to reconcile the Munkustrap from the war with the man who'd mailed himself as a corpse to get away from smugglers. "Perhaps," he said.

"I suppose we shall have to see.  Whatever the end result, I just hope Misto ends up happy and cared for.  Tugger came to me a while ago."

"Tugger?" Mac asked, giving her a long look.

"He...well, actually I ran into him.  He doesn't think the doctor's capable of enough passion for Misto.  What do you think?"

"I think he would have to pull one hell of a stick out of his ass," Mac admitted. "Don't mean I don't think he could do it. Deep runnin' rivers are still there."

"They fight so much..." she pointed out, a frown appearing between her brows.

"Ain't that what passion's about?" Mac asked, meeting her eyes.

"Passion includes it, yes, but there is more to passion than that."

"Ain't sayin' there's not, I'm just saying, fights don't mean two people can't work things out," Mac shrugged, leading her through a turn and dip as the music of the second song ended.

As he set her back on her feet, her hands moved to his shoulder, "I suppose that's true, I just worry about them both."

His eyes drifted over to her hand and he nodded. "We all do," he said. "Apparently even Tug."

She nodded, "He said we shouldn't be surprised by that."

"Can't help it," Mac laughed. "He sure acts like he wouldn't give a damn. I guess I should give him some credit after Canton but," he shrugged. "Another dance then? I don't think Misto's inclined to turn the music off any time soon."

Grids glanced over at Mistoffelees and then nodded, "Yes, I think another dance."

Mac glanced over to where Tugger was still trying to prove himself to the teenage girl that was moving around the floor like she was floating, and over to Jemi and Pounce who danced slower than the others, more comfortable in their space, over to Mistoffelees and Munkustrap who were all smiles for each other and something that looked like blooming passion.

Finally his eyes strayed back to Griddlebone before he began to lead her through the next dance. Griddlebone allowed him to lead her through the dance, unconsciously moving a bit closer to him through the movements.  Some days it was almost as though there was a thread between them, tenuous, but growing thicker and stronger as time progressed.

After a couple more dances, Mistoffelees finally stepped back, out of breath. The others had drifted away, Jemi and Pounce long since back in their quarters and Mac and Griddlebone parting after a few dances. Even Tant had been distracted by something else, and Tugger walked off, feeling he'd more than proved himself.

"Call it a night?" Mistoffelees asked, laughing as he tried to calm his racing heart rate.

Munkustrap smiled at that, "I think that's probably best.  Thank you for a wonderful evening."

Misto bobbed a quick sort of half bow. "Of course. I should be saying the same."

"Will...Well, I did rather enjoy myself.  I haven't danced so much in a very long time, and never with such a good dancer as yourself."

"You flatter me," Mistoffelees said, still grinning. "I'm not that special."

"I think you very much are.  You're great, you've been real welcoming, and all.  And you...well...you are."

That got a blush from the mechanic. "Can't be a good dancer by yourself," he murmured.

Munkustrap smiled slightly, "Thank you for that."

"I, I'm sure you're tired," Mistoffelees said, still blushing. "Should get you a room made up."

"Probably," Munkus reached up and absently traced a hand over Mistoffelees' cheek.

The smaller man startled at that, and smiled the next moment, suddenly looking unsure. "Probably?"

"Should go get that room made up," he replied.  "I doubt I should sleep on one of the couches at this point."

"No, a bed for sure," Mistoffelees nodded. "You'll need a bed."

Munkustrap nodded, "Maybe should see to that then?"

"Yeah," Mistoffelees swallowed and realized that meant walking past Coricopat's room. "Passenger dorms are over here, by the infirmary."

"Lead on," the taller hesitated a moment before slipping his hand into the other's.

Glancing down at that, Mistoffelees' heart thudded, half from the contact and half from the idea of walking past Coricopat in such a manner. "Sure," he said, tugging him along.

They reached the passenger dorms just as Coricopat was emerging from his room.  He paused, his grey gaze flickering over the two of them and resting for a long moment on their joined hands, "Dancing over then?"

"Yes," Mistoffelees said, every muscle in his body tensing so not to yank his hand back. "I'm sorry you didn't have a chance to dance. Or seem to."

The doctor shrugged, his eyes rising to meet Munksutrap's, "Rather more activity than I would recommend for a man clinically dead a handful of hours ago."

"Everything's working fine, Doctor," Munkustrap answered, his blue eyes holding a challenge.

"Oh, I'm sure it is.  It certainly appears so.  If the two of you will excuse me..."

Mistoffelees wanted to say something, anything, but couldn't think of a single thing so he just nodded.

Coricopat nodded to them both before shouldering past Munkustrap and retreating.

Mistoffelees followed him with his gaze before turning back to Munkustrap. "Over here," he said, pointing to the room furthest from Coricopat's that wasn't a bunk. "And I'll get the pillows."

Munkustrap stepped into the room, looking around, "Thanks.  It's a nice place."

"Nicest we can make it," Mistoffelees agreed. "I repainted all the rooms one year. I think Mac grumbled about the cost but it got us more passengers after that..."

"You did a good job.  It looks good."

"Thanks," Mistoffelees said, blushing again before leaving to find the pillows and blankets, pausing when he saw Tantomile watching him from the doorway.

Munkustrap sank down onto the bed, he wasn't about to let the doctor know in the hall, but he was tired out after that much dancing, he probably shouldn't have pushed it.  It was enjoyable, and he would swear up and down to anyone who asked that it was entirely worth it.

Moments later Mistoffelees entered again. "Move over, I'll make the bed," he said, motioning to a small chair in the corner.

He offered the smaller man a smile as he rose, moving to lean against the wall rather than sit, "Can I give you a hand at all there?"

"No," Mistoffelees said, looking him over. "You must be tired."

"A little.  Nothing a good night's sleep won't cure.  Making a bed is hardly strenuous."

"Still," Mistoffelees said, fanning the blanket out before moving to tuck it in. "I can do it," he flashed Munkustrap a grin.

Munkustrap smiled in return, chuckling slightly, "I'm sure you can.  Alright, I'll let you do that then."

For a moment Mistoffelees focused on making the bed and then realized focusing on _bed_ right then was a horrible idea and glanced back at the other. "So," he tried, no topic coming to mind beyond dancing, and bed, and Coricopat's expression.

The other cleared his throat and tried to rid his mind of the thoughts he was having, "Hm?"

"Well," Mistoffelees shrugged and laughed. He felt vaguely absurd. "It just seems quiet is all."

That earned a quiet laugh, "It really does.  If I say what's on my mind though you're going to end up blushing...not that I think that's a bad thing."

"Well, you might be surprised," Mistoffelees offered.

"I might be, yeah."  Munkustrap considered the other for a moment, "Alright, I'll say it.  I think you're one of the handsomest, sweetest, kindest guys I've ever met."

That did cause Mistoffelees to blush. "That's sayin' somethin' for just meetin' me," he murmured.

"What, cause I just met you I can’t think that?"

"Well, I," Mistoffelees paused, still holding one of the pillows before setting it down. "No? But it's a... lot of assumptions to make. Maybe I'm secretly evil like and just have a charmin' persona, or somethin'."

"Maybe, but somehow I doubt it.  Even if you did, doesn't change other parts of what I said."

"It takes out sweetest and kindest," Mistoffelees returned.

"Well, guess that's true.  But you're still handsomest, and if you are truly evil, sliest is added."

"Lots of "est" there," Mistoffelees blushed again when handsome came up.

Munkus smiled, "I like that bit though."

"That I'm est?" Mistoffelees asked, wavering between the bed and stepping forward.

The taller man nodded, "Yes, that."

Mistoffelees considered him. "I'm really unsure what to do with you," he murmured.

"Oh?  I'm not all that hard to figure out am I?"

"Well, depends on which type of figurin' out I'm supposed to be doin'," Mistoffelees breathed. "You could give me a map?"

Munkustrap reached up, his hand resting on Mistoffelees cheek for a moment before he leaned down and kissed the smaller man.  He didn't hold onto him, giving the other the chance to retreat if he wanted, but the kiss was still forceful enough that there was no doubt that it was what _he_ wanted.

The smaller man hesitated a moment, letting the kiss happen without responding one way or another before leaning up and pressing against the other, arms twining around his shoulders.

At that response, Munkustrap looped an arm around Mistoffelees' waist, the hand on his cheek moving to comb through his hair. Mistoffelees swallowed before pressing deeper into the kiss, pulling at Munkustrap's shoulders and making sure his nose was tilted away.

Munkustrap leaned down to make the angle a bit easier on Mistoffelees, nipping at the other's lower lip. That got a small sound out of Mistoffelees and he leaned up on his toes.

Munkustrap pulled the other closer, nearly flush against him as he drew back enough to lean down further and nip at Mistoffelees' throat and collarbone. Titling his head back and leaning up further--and thus harder against the other--the mechanic let out a stuttering breath. "Shouldn't you be restin'?" he managed finally.

"Not as tired as I thought," Munkustrap replied, his breath ghosting over the other’s collarbone where he'd been focusing his attentions.

"You sure you're not gonna hurt anythin'?" Mistoffelees managed one last time.

"I'll be careful."

"Right, good, because you shouldn't need a doctor for somethin' like this," Mistoffelees said as a teasing joke and just about froze entirely when he remembered who the doctor on the ship was.

Munkustrap felt the other tense, "Y'alright with this?"

He hesitated moment, mind running circles around itself before he nodded. "Yeah. You?"

He received a nod in response as the taller man leaned down to kiss him again, "Absolutely."

"Okay," Mistoffelees breathed against his mouth.

Munkustrap stepped away just long enough to push the door shut before he was back, his arms moving around Mistoffelees' waist again and fingers tracing the hem of the smaller man's shirt. The mechanic was already working on Munkustrap's shirt, murmuring something about being quiet on a ship like this before shoving up for another kiss. It had been so long as he was sick of dancing around Coricopat.

Their shirts were quickly tossed aside, Munkustrap never breaking the kiss as he guided Mistoffelees back to the bed, lowering him down onto it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your author's actually rather do ship Munkustrap/Mistoffelees. The problem is as long as there's a Coricopat anywhere in the picture, Mistoffelees refuses to unhinge from there. And they got a little away from us this chapter.


	17. I'm Sure I'll Find the Time at Some Point

Several hours later, Mistoffelees lifted his head from where he'd been sleeping lightly against Munkustrap's chest. The other's heart beat was sped up, and it was honestly a bit disconcerting, but he was hardly going to complain about anything at that point.

Munkustrap blinked slowly awake at the motion, his hand moving up to absently comb through Mistoffelees' thick hair. Humming, Mistoffelees leaned his head into the touch. "Go back to sleep," he murmured, kissing the space his head was just resting on. "Gotta make sure the engine is runnin' smooth."

"Will you be back?"  Munkustrap murmured drowsily at that.

"Do you want me back?" Mistoffelees grinned and nearly stopped again. "I mean, movin' into the passenger room is goin' to be even more of a neon sign than I'm sure we've already put up."

Munkustrap offered him a sleepy smile, "I wouldn't mind you being back.  I'd offer to move into your cabin, but I think Macavity would kill me if he found out so soon...."

Mistoffelees let out a half laugh. "I don't know..." he managed. "I don't think he'd be so shocked as that."

Munkus just looked at him, "It's more the protectiveness than shock I'm worried about."

"Ain't he protective of you too?" Mistoffelees asked, tracing half sleepy patterns across the other's chest. He was like a kid with candy when it came to touch.

"Sortta, but I don't think it's the same sort," he ran his hand up and down the smaller man's arm.

Mistoffelees hummed and finally pushed himself up. "I really gotta deal with the engine," he said, sliding out of the bed and hunting his clothing back up.

Munkustap made a quiet noise of protest at that, "All right, I suppose I can let you go make sure the ship is going to keep runnin' right."

"I'm sure the crew will thank you," Mistoffelees murmured and paused, kissing him lightly once he was dressed. "You still want me to come back?"

"If you would?"  The other looked hopeful at that thought.

Mistoffelees swallowed--the thought of his own bunk felt unbearably empty and lonely. "Yeah," he said with one last kiss and straightened. "But do try to go back to sleep."

Munkus offered him a drowsy smile, "I'll try.  Go check on that engine now." Offering him one more smile, the mechanic moved to do just that.

Coricopat was on his way to his cabin, having spent far longer than he should have re organizing the entire infirmary, again.  He froze when he saw Mistoffelees coming out of Munkustrap's room.  The doctor's gaze swept over the mechanic's rumpled appearance and his expression shuttered off.

The smaller man tensed as he realized someone else was there, hoping for one insane minute it was going to be anyone but the doctor--but of course it was. It was clearly several hours since he'd made the other's bed so he could hardly use settling him in as an excuse. "You're up late," he tried casually.

"So are you," Coricopat glanced toward the closed door of Munkustrap's cabin.  "Settling him in well enough then?"

"I had to check on the engine," he replied, considering trying to lie and say he had just been checking on the other too. But he didn't really want to lie, just as much as he didn't really want to admit it either.

"Right.  Of course.  Have a good night then?"

"Yes," he said softly. "I see you didn't dance earlier."

"I didn't much feel like dancing."

"You never seem to," Mistoffelees murmured, finally meeting his eyes.

The doctor pursed his lips, "Well, I suppose that's my concern, isn't it."

"Not entirely," Mistoffelees said softly. "You once offered to dance with me and never did."

"The opportunity never arose,” the doctor replied stiffly.

"It was always there," Mistoffelees protested.

Coricopat looked the other over, "It probably _was_ yes."

Searching his face the mechanic bit his lip. "Are you sayin' it's not anymore?"

"Something tells me it would be rather difficult at this point, considering you seem well on your way toward some sort of entanglement."

Titling his chin back, the shorter man closed his eyes a moment before opening them again. "And do you mind?"

"And if I did?  What of it?" his tone grew slightly harsh.

"I would like to know, and why," Mistoffelees replied, voice level.

"I don't see that it's really your business what I think at this point in time."

"So you're not jealous then?" Mistoffelees asked, switching tracts suddenly as a flash of anger ran through him.

Coricopat frowned at that, "Why in the name of all that is holy would I be jealous of _him_?"

The mechanic's eyes widened and his expression closed off. "I have no idea," he said, voice cold. "I do have an engine to check..."

The doctor stepped aside motioning down the corridor, "Well don't let _me_ keep you."

"Of course," he said. "After all, you must be _tired_ , I would hate to stop you resting."

"Thank you for your consideration.  I do hope you manage some sleep once you're done checking on the engine."

"I'm sure I'll find the time at some point," Mistoffelees returned, bitterly.

Coricopat nodded briskly, stepping into his room and closing the door firmly.  He sagged back against the door, closing his eyes and drawing a shaky breath.  Damn it all to hell.

For a moment Mistoffelees didn't move, and by the time he finally got to the engine room his hands were shaking. Sitting down, back against the engine, he just breathed for several moments, feeling the thrum of the ship move through him before he finally rose to perform the check he needed to do.

s-s-s-s

Late the following day, the ship was rocked by the force of a strong explosion somewhere to port.  Pouncival swore, focusing on keeping them steady as he radioed, unnecessarily, for Mac.

Macavity had been leaning against the railing of the walkway, watching Munkustrap and Mistoffelees together, unsure what to make of them. As soon as the ship rocked though, he was running through the halls, moments later appearing in the cockpit. "Hell's goin' on?" he demanded, Jemi hot on his heels.

The pilot glanced up at them, "Behind us.  They fired over the port bow.  Coulda hit us, but didn't."

"A warning shot then?" Jemi asked, approaching her position behind Pounce's chair.

Her husband nodded as a screen to their left came to life, "This is Lieutenant Womack of Allied Enforcement. You are in possession of stolen goods and are ordered to cut thrust and prepare for docking."

"Feds," Jemi murmured and Mac scowled.

"Hell we take on lately?"

"Tugger's hat and Munku," Jemi replied with a shrug as Mac turned to the screen.

"This is captain Hollister," he said, hitting the button to relay their message. "I think there's been some kinda mix-up here..."

"There seem to have been several of those.  The latest of which is you taking that crate a couple days ago."

Mac shot a look at the others, Jemi's face turning ashen. "We took in a lot of inventory," he said back to the screen. "If somethin' got mixed in, we'll hand it back, but I don't think we're your men. Let me check the cargo--it happen to be marked up in anyway?"

"I'd think twice about playing games with me there, mister. I will blow you to pieces," came the reply.

"You do that, and whatever's in that crate you want will be in those little pieces too," Mac returned, looking at the display. They were hovering over a planet. "Look, I got deliveries to make, so you lock onto our trajectory and I'll take a look around, see what matched up to your description, alright?"

Before the man could reply the screen went black again.  Pounce blinked, "Police procedure's changed since I was little..."

"Keep them distracted," Mac demanded, already turning.

"With what? Shadow puppets?"  He shook his head, "I'll do my best."

"Best is all I'm askin' for," Mac said, turning and taking the stairs off the bridge two at a time on his way down, stalking back toward the cargo hold.

Munkustrap was seated talking and laughing with Mistoffelees.  He glanced up and paused when he saw Macavity, "Sarge?"

"Those men you're runnin' from?" Mac demanded, fury in his posture. "Didn't happen to be Alliance did they?"

Munkustrap's blue eyes widened at that, "One of em mighta been.  I..."

"Because they're currently on our tail," Mac replied. "And lookin' a mite angry."

"They're... Oh hell.  Sarge, I didn't think they'd come after me.  Didn't even know they'd trace me that far."

"That's great, 'Straps, real reassurin' in all sorts of ways," Mac returned. "Whether you meant for it to happen or not they're here."

"Capt," Mistoffelees said, rising and trying to catch his eyes but the captain shook his head.

Munkustrap swallowed hard at that, "What are we going t' do, Sarge?"

"Haven't rightly figured that one out yet," Mac replied. "Any brilliant ideas in that brain of your since that's what got us into this here mess?"

"I...I don't know, Mac.  It wasn't supposed t' happen.  Can this ship out run 'em?"

"They have guns, you gorram idiot," Mac snapped. "Misto, can the engines even handle that much hard burn that long?"

"I," Mistoffelees looked quickly between the two men. "I don't, I don't know."

Munkustrap flinched, "What do you want me to suggest, Mac?  I go with them they cut me open and they sure as hell ain't putting anything back in."

Macavity stared him down as the ship suddenly rocked again. "Stay the hell here," he snapped, running back to the bridge.

Cohen had joined Pouncival on the bridge by then.  Pounce glanced up at Macavity, "I think they're about done bein' stalled, Mac."

"I'm thinkin' you're right," Mac growled, leaning over his shoulder. "What's goin' on? How far from that planet are we?"

"Five minutes from atmo," the pilot replied.

"Bring up the terrain specs," he told Jemi, who nodded and set to work. "Get us down there."

Pounce turned his attention back to getting them down onto the planet, "Captain, he's radioing again."

"Gorram son of a bitch," Mac muttered, hitting the screen. "Captain Hollister here."

"Hollister.  I’m a dangerous minded man on a ship full of hurt.  Now why you got me chatting with your peons?  Answer me that."

"Well, sir, we're dealin' with some technical difficulties," he said. "I was gettin' a report from my mech, seein' what could be done."

"Not interested, Captain. I stepped over a lot of bodies to get to that one you got in your hold. You play this right, and yours won't have to be among them."

"That's the plan," Mac murmured, "Look, that last blow you gave us knocked out our fore-couples, so we gotta land if you want the tour," he said into the screen, pointing to the map he was holding in front of Pounce.

"Alright, Captain, we can do this on the ground just as easy," Womack answered, signing off.

Pounce glanced at the map, nodding, "I can do that, Cap'n."

"Good," he said, glancing at the blank screen before switching the mic to speak to the ship. "Attention, crew, this is your captain. Sit down and hang on to somethin'..."

As he spoke, Pounce threw Serenity into a dive, aiming for the location Mac had indicating. Mac nearly fell over at that, though he had been expecting it, setting the microphone back where it belonged and holding onto the ceiling.

Munkustrap in the cargo hold narrowly avoiding falling onto Mistoffelees at that, "Goodness, pilot's pretty wild..."

Mistoffelees caught the wall and nodded. "He's great though. Can thread a needle with this bird. Best I've ever seen."

"Seemed nice from what I saw last night."  He hesitated, "I'm sorry 'bout all a this."

Choosing to ignore the apology, Mistoffelees continued on the vein of Pounce instead. "Did you know he's married to Jemi?"

That earned a long blink, "Jems got married?  Next you'll be telling me she smiles too."

"She even displays emotions from time to time," Mistoffelees nodded. "Mostly you know, anger and annoyance but her range has been growing."

That earned a bit of a smile, "Good.  She's earned it."

Mistoffelees considered him as the ship shook again, still holding onto the wall. "You sound like you don't think you do."

Munkustrap shrugged, "Considerin' the mess a trouble I got you lot in?  'Sides, ain't done much admirable in my life."

"I'm sure you have," Mistoffelees protested, softly as the ship rocked. He looked up, swallowing.

The taller man offered him a faint smile with just an edge of bitterness to it, "Dunno, mebbe I have, mebbe I haven't.  I just wish I didn't bring this with me to all a you."

"Well, we take what we're given," he said softly, as if it was a phrase he had once repeated to himself many times.

Munkustrap reached up to run a hand over the smaller man's cheek, "I guess we do.  And sometimes what we're given is amazing."

Mistoffelees' eyes widened and he swallowed hard. "I like to think so..."

"You do know I mean you, right?"

His smiled softened. "Maybe I was hopin' so..."

Munkustrap offered him another gentle smile, "Well I did."  He paused for a moment before leaning up to kiss, Mistoffelees.

The shorter leaned down into the kiss, nearly falling on the other's lap when the ship lurched again. Hands on Mistoffelees' his to try and steady him, Munkustrap pressed up into the kiss, not really wanting to let the other go. Letting out a soft huff of breath, Mistoffelees pressed closer against the touch. "We should," he started, finally pulling away and not quite thinking what they should do.

"Should...?"

"Never mind," he said, tilting his head again as the ship shuddered.

Munkustrap glanced at the wall of the cargo hold at that, "This old girl going to hold together under this stress?"

"Yeah," Mistoffelees nodded. "She's a tough little bird. She's gone through worse."

"Alright," Munkustrap drew the other down again into another kiss, hoping to at least partially ignore the situation and trying not to think it might be his last chance at something like this.

"You're gonna be fine," Mistoffelees murmured, smoothing his hair back but leaning in for another kiss anyway.

"I wish I had your confidence," Munkustrap murmured against the kiss, pulling the other closer.

s-s-s-s

Back on the bridge, Mac looked over at Pounce as they piloted themselves over the icy planet. They had been trying to shake the other ship for quite a while. "Do you think /this/ will work?"

Pounce shook his head, "I'm doin' everything I know how and I still haven't--"

He was cut off as Womack appeared on the vid again, "Had enough of this goose run. Don't need no attitude on this ice cube. Now let's park it!"

The pilot glanced in that direction, "Just, uh, looking for a good spot, officer."

"You got thirty seconds to set it down or I blast you."

"Canyons," Mac pointed quietly.

Pounce nodded once, sending Serenity shooting into the canyon, considering how best he might be able to actually shake the Alliance vessel.

Mac looked up and scowled. "They're on top of us," he muttered.

"Gorram feds," Pounce muttered, having to weave through the canyons.  He swore far more roundly as the ship above them blasted a mountain side free and sent it tumbling towards them.  He managed to avoid the debris, but only barely, "Gah!  That kind of flying sure wakes y' up!"

"Awake is good," Mac said, giving him a disturbed look.

Pounce kept his eyes peeled, darting around curves, and under bridges in the canyons.  He smiled faintly as he saw just what he was looking for.  He slowed the ship down and as they passed around another curve carefully backed her into an ice cave and set her down, "Now, shut down the main power and hope they can't read our auxiliary under all of this..."

"And if they come down?" Mac asked, still holding onto the ceiling.

"Mac did you see the size of their ship?  It's too big to come this far down."

"Well, that's good right?" he started just as the entire canyon shook. "They're droppin' mags, aren't they?" he sighed.

Pouncival paled at that, but nodded, "Yeah...that's what that sounds like."

The Captain started swearing in Chinese. "Options!"

"Well, we're only as good as long as the roof hold out. Direct hit above us, ship's electricals'll be fried. We'll have to climb out," his pilot answered quietly.

"I ain't gettin' buried in her for some stupid kid!" Tugger said from the doorway. "You all mad?"

"There's another way," Cohen spoke from where he'd been puzzling over some readings ever since they hit atmo.

"Now would be a good time, preacher," Mac said, eyes snapping over to him.

"We're cornered, outgunned, and it's only a matter of time before they find us, what's left of us. We make good on what we said we were gonna do. Let's call them. Fly out of this canyon. Let 'em board.  They're not calling for back-up even though they could."

"They could?" Mac asked, eyes glinting.

Cohen nodded, "There's a base not far from here, yet they haven't transmitted to anyone but us since breaking atmo."

"What are you sayin' then?" Mac asked.

"I'm saying our one choice to get out of this alive is to let them board Serenity.  Just as I said.  Fly out of the canyon and let them board."

None of them noticed Munkustrap, who had come to check on why they were stopped, standing just outside the doorway to the bridge.

Pounce startled as the bridge vibrated from another mag drop, "That one was too close, Mac..."

"We let them on, we're takin' a chance," Mac said. "A very big one. They ain't playin'."

"It's the only option, Captain..."  The shepherd spoke softly, but firmly.

"Call the cops," Mac told Pounce after a long moment. "Tell me we're givin' up."

Pounce nodded, reaching over and turning the radio on.  He froze at the click of a gun being cocked.  Munkustrap stood int he doorway, gun level and held steady, "I don't think so."

Mac turned slowly, eyes narrowing. "The hell you doin'?" he demanded, voice low.

Munkustrap's voice and hands were steady, but there was a spark of panic in his eyes, "Mac, I already told you what those bastards up there'll do to me.  I ain't gonna let that happen."  He aimed the gun at Pounce again, "Now turn off the damn radio."

"Pounce, call the cops," Mac said again, slowly.

Pounce glanced at his captain and then at The gun still trained on him, "Captain...?"

"I'll kill him, I swear I will.  Put a hole right through him," Munkustrap spoke with cold certainty that his eyes still didn't share.

"You mailed us this trouble," Mac replied, voice gone icy long ago. "I'll go to /hell/ before you turn and bite us for the trouble. Don't you trust me anymore?"

The next mag drop was a good deal closer, Munkustrap barely flinched, "I don't trust anyone anymore, Sarge."

"Then we're gonna have a problem," Mac said slowly. "Now put the gun down and follows my orders one more time, dogma? Pounce, _do it_."

Pounce swallowed and offered a single, tense nod to his captain, reaching for the radio.  Munkustrap change the angle of his shot at the last minute, aiming for the console, but missed. 


	18. What I Wanted to See, Rather than What was There

Munkustrap’s bullet ricocheted off the railing above the console and grazed the pilot's temple, sending Pouncival reeling back away from the radio.

The moment he fired another gun went off, Jemi's face expressionless as she shot her former comrade. Munkustrap stumbled back at that, his eyes wide as he looked at Jemima, "You... you shot me..."

She nodded once. "Yes," she said, eyes tracking to her husband and leaning over him.

Pounce murmured something along the lines of "I'm fine, just a scratch.  Ow that hurt."

"What's goin' on?" Mistoffelees asked, scurrying up when he heard the gunshots.

Munkustrap was running purely on instinct by that time, having backed into the corridor outside of the bridge.  He caught Mistoffelees' by the arm, swinging him around in front of him as a shield.

The mechanic let out a muffled cry at that, shocked as he suddenly found Mac's gun pointing in his direction, even though Mac dropped it the moment he realized it was Mistoffelees in his way. "Straps," the captain growled.

Munkus fired a warning shot in the general direction of the bridge door as he backed up, having taken the day to get accustomed to the layout and the routes to and from different parts of the ship.

Head trying to turn around, Mistoffelees started struggling. "What's goin' on?" he repeated. "And oh god, you're _bleedin'_..."

Munkustrap stepped back enough to catch Mistoffelees’ wrist so he wasn't quite using him as a shield anymore, "Yeah, I’m bleedin', they shot me."  He pulled the other along with him toward the shuttles.

"What?" Mistoffelees yelped, stumbling and trying to dig his heels in. "Munkustrap, just stop, what the hell are you doin'? Just stop!"

Munkus paused, looking at the smaller man, his gaze pleading, "They're giving up.  They're makin' a deal with the feds.  I can't be here, Misto.  That gorram fed's gonna gut me and Mac's gonna let him."

"No, that's not Mac," Mistoffelees protested. "He wouldn't... please let go..."

The taller man shook his head, "You didn't hear 'em.  See 'em.  I gotta get outta here.  You gotta show me how t' run this shuttle."

"No," Mistoffelees said. "Mac ain't like that. I swear. I can't just... just leave or... or... god, you're really bleedin', we gotta get the doctor..."

"Ain't got time for that.  Feds are right over us and that gorram traitor's gonna let 'em on board."

"It's not gonna do much good when you bleed out on the shuttle floor!" Mistoffelees yelped, almost hoping the words would call someone--the doctor, Grids, anyone really.

"Then I'll do a quick patch up.  It ain't the worst I've had."

"Stand down, private," Mac snapped, having approached slowly after making sure the cockpit was pinned down, gun out again as Mistoffelees made a soft sound of protest.

Munkustrap whirled, yanking Mistoffelees in front of him again.  The gun in his hand was still held steady, but he canted it at just such an angle that although it was easily threatening to Mistoffelees, he knew it wouldn't do any lethal damage.  That wasn't necessarily something visible to the captain of the ship, "Don’t force my hand further, Sarge."

Mistoffelees let out a cry when he was yanked around again, freezing when he felt the gun hovering nearby.

Mac's eyes, which had already been cold turned into ice. "You will back the hell down from my mechanic," he snarled. Tugger stopped from where he was approaching quietly the other way, moving stealthily like a cat.

Munkustrap shook his head, "Like hell.  I don't want to do this, don't make me."

"I ain't makin' you do anything," Mac said, voice low.

"Really, ain't how it looks from where I'm standin'.  Put the gun away, Sarge."

Coricopat, having heard the commotion, entered from the direction of the passenger dorms, freezing when he saw the guns and Mistoffelees at the center of the stand-off.  He murmured under his breath, "God no..."

"You brought this on me," Mac was saying. "You brought this hell on me and my crew. You got yourself deeper than you were expectin' and shelled it off on me. And I don't like people who do that to my own. So you will let him go. I don't give a damn what you do with that gun right now but he has no part in this."

Mistoffelees let out a faint whimper.

"I let him go, you really think I trust you not to kill me where I stand?" Munkustrap demanded.

The doctor's gaze swept over the tableau, trying to find a way to fix _something_ , but unable to see any opening that wouldn't get one or more of the parties killed.  The most likely scenario being a bullet through Mistoffelees' skull.  He felt cold terror grip him at that thought.

Tugger was the only one to notice the doctor standing there, before he started slinking forward again.

"You really want to add another body to the trail of bodies that that bastard fed was talkin' about?" Mac demanded.

"It's real simple how to not add to that number.  Let me get the hell outta here and we won't have the problem."

Mac's lips drew back from his mouth. "You are stupid in every way possible, aren't you?"

"/I am/?  You know why I chose you and Jemi, Sarge?  Cause you're both gullible saps of the worst kind.  All your stories of glory and honor and all of that.  They ain't worth a damn."

"Maybe you shoulda listened," Mac said calmly, eying the pair in front of them, noting Mistoffelees' ever increasing panic. "Now let that boy go--he's been shot enough recently."

Munkustrap hesitated, seeming to consider it for a moment, but shook his head, "I can't do that, Sarge."  The mag charges had silenced, their regular background tempo's absence lending a strange calm to the scene.

"The call's been made," Mac said softly and in the silence it was easier to hear Mistoffelees' soft, panicked breaths.

"Then you've just murdered me, Sarge," Munkustrap's voice cracked at that thought.

Tugger chose that moment to let himself be known, cocking his gun in the loud silence. The former soldier startled at that, whirling to try and locate the source of the sound.  His grip on Mistoffelees loosened as he turned. Mistoffelees wrenched away, dropping to the ground and twisting himself around the corner of the walkway as Mac fired.

Mac's bullet found it's home inches from the wound that Jemi had inflicted.  Munkustrap stumbled and collapsed, his weapon clattering to the ground as he fell. 

Coricopat was across the space and gently placing an arm around Mistoffelees before he could think better of it.  He left the other enough slack to be able to escape if he needed to, but he had to confirm that the smaller man was intact.

Even though his eyes were on Munkustrap, Mistoffelees clung to the doctor, trying to match his heart rate with his in an attempt to keep from going into hysterics. The doctor drew him closer, running a hand over Mistoffelees' hair, murmuring soothing nothings much as he did with Tant when he could touch her during her panics.

Mac stepped forward, holstering his gun and looking down at the former soldier. "Oh 'Straps..."

Munkustrap blinked blearily up at his Sergeant, choking slightly on his blood, "Guess that ties it, eh Sarge..."

Leaning down, Mac gently rested a hand on the other's shoulder. "Yeah," he said, voice low, “guess it does."

As he felt the ship take off, Mistoffelees glanced up at Coricopat one more time before rising and moving hesitantly over to Munkustrap.

The doctor gritted his teeth, concealed his thoughts and followed the mechanic.  Munkustrap's gaze moved to Mistoffelees, "Misto...I...I'm sorry."

"Sh," the smaller responded, looping an arm around his shoulders and helping to prop the bleeding man up against the railing. "Just be still, it's okay." It wasn't, but he hardly was going to tell a dying man that he was still terrified of him.

The former soldier shook his head, "No.  No it ain't.  I...shouldn't a done that..."

Coricopat bit his tongue to keep from agreeing as he knelt down near Munkustrap, checking the wounds.  There wasn't anything to be done.  He glanced at Macavity, shaking his head to confirm what he was sure the captain already knew.

Mac nodded once at the doctor, turning to Tugger and Jemi, saying several quiet orders, as Jemi went to go find Cohen. "Doc," he murmured softly. "The pilot could use some seein' to."

Coricopat hesitated and then nodded, "Will you make certain Tant isn't seen, Captain?"

Mac nodded. "Would prefer you not bein' seen either," he added in an undertone. "If you see her, take her up to the bridge with you, stay there til we say."

Mistoffelees glanced at Mac and Coricopat and swallowed before turning back to Munkustrap, resting a hand against his cheek. "You were scared," he said softly.

"I...yeah I was, but it don't excuse it."

"Maybe not," Mistoffelees murmured, stroking his cheek lightly. "But that don't matter now, okay?" He felt the ship settle back down on the ground and swallowed.

The doctor nodded again before rising and going to fetch his sister on his way to the bridge.

Munkustrap smiled bitterly, "Nah, it don't matter now.  I just...don't want you hatin' me."

"I don't," he said softly. "I don't hate you."

The taller man offered Mistoffelees a weak smile, drawing a shaky breath, "Promise?"

"Course," he murmured, and leaned over to kiss him softly. It actually required more will than he was willing to admit.

The other leaned up very slightly into the kiss before pulling back to cough, a hand going to his chest.

"Now shh," Mistoffelees said, still holding his cheek.

Munkus offered him a pained look, "I...."  His gaze strayed to Mac, "Sarge?  You're right."

"Bout what?" Mac asked, voice neutral from where he had been watching the exchange.

"I was stupid.  Idiot that I am, and I got you in a world of trouble you didn't ask for..."

Mac sighed as they heard the other ship land, pulling his gun back out and turning toward the cargo doors. "We always end up with trouble we didn't ask for, 'Straps," he said softly. "I forgive you for it too."

Munkustrap drew a shaky breath, but nodded.  The cargo bay doors opened and Womack strode in with one of his men on either side of him all of their guns at the ready. Tugger stood at the side of the railing, large gun in hand.

Womack's lip curled as he stopped, "Well, now... Somebody left their dog off the leash... I been shot too many times to be scared by a gun, boy."

Munkustrap shifted, causing him to bite back a groan, "Womack...I think I broke your cargo..."  He chuckled slightly at the look that crossed Womack's face at the sight of the wounds and the blood dripping through the catwalk.

Mistoffelees shifted a little closer, holding onto Munkustrap's hand.

"Been a bit of a problem durin' shippin'," Mac added from the catwalk.

Womack looked around, "Don't think I have to tell you folk the kind of trouble you're in. Wetware smugglin', resistin', fleein' an officer a' the law... I'm sure a search of this ship'll come up with another few felonies."

Cohen emerged from behind a stack of crates, "You won't be searching the ship, Womack."

That earned a pair of raised eyebrows, "That so?"

"It is. You won't be taking us in. Nor the boy who's dying up there."

"I'm authorized to kill as I like, shepherds notwithstanding."

The look Womack received was completely unimpressed and cool, "Why is it you didn't call in for back-up? There's a Fed station eighty miles from where you're standing."  He strode closer, "You got your command stripes at the Silverhold colonies. Puts you about eight sectors away from your jurisdiction... Since you're running this job on the side you took pains--" the shepherd paused as Womack's gun trained on him.  The two men with Womack were a little more hesitant as they did the same, "As I was saying, you took pains to keep your presence here secret. I don't imagine it'd bother anyone if we laid your bodies to rest at the bottom of one of these canyons."

Mac offered him a cheery grin. "You know what that means? Get the hell off my ship," he said, cocking his gun.

The cops lowered their guns, Womack's gaze moving to Munkustrap again.  He appeared to be calculating the merits of continuing before he finally shrugged, "It's damaged goods anyhow."

Mac watched him leave the ship, Tugger keeping his gun trained on him too on the way out.

Munkustrap coughed as the airlock slid shut, "That...that was the plan?"

"Yeah," Mac said, lookin' back at him and sighing. "That was the plan all along. I don't give my own up."

The younger man let his head fall back against the railing, "Damn....I....damn."

Mac leaned down next to him, holding his other hand as Jemi slowly took the stairs up. "I'm sorry, 'Straps," Mac said softly.

"I...never could get my life right after th' war.  Seems 'ppropriate somehow..."  He coughed again, "That...message.  I...I was tryin' to play you guys.  I'm sorry.  I...you'll still do it, though?  Please?  Get me home?  And not tell my folks how I died... please, Sarge, Jems."

"You know the old sayin'," Mac said, and that was answer enough.

"Yeah," Jemi agreed.

Munkus offered them a faint smile at that, "When you can't run...you crawl.  And when you can't c-crawl..." he broke off, coughing on his own blood once more.

"You find someone to carry you," Jemi finished for him, Mistoffelees resting a hand on Munkustrap's chest.

The former soldier for the rebellion smiled faintly, sadly, his eyes flickering and his breath catching.  A final shuddering breath and he fell still.

For a moment no one moved before Jemi reached forward to lower both his eyelids and Mac rose, hitting the comm. "Pounce, if your head wound is looked to... get us to St. Albans."

"St.--" Pounce cleared his throat, "On it, Captain."

Mac nodded as Tugger moved forward. Carefully, Mac and Jemi picked up Munkustrap, taking his body back down to the coffin he had originally come in, once again allowing it the cradle him. For a long moment Mistoffelees didn't move, before finally rising and moving to the infirmary, which had the nearest sink, to wash the blood off his hands.

Coricopat waited until they were in the air again before heading down to the infirmary to clean up and put away the things he had taken to treat Pouncival with.  He paused when he saw Mistoffelees there, "Misto?"

"Yeah?" he asked softly, still scrubbing his hands but not turning.

"Are--" he revised the question before he asked if the other was alright, "Are you injured?"

"Not quite," he answered. "Not in any meaningful way."

The doctor shook his head, putting everything away, "I've never encountered any injury that didn't have some meaning."

That got Mistoffelees to look over at him, stopping finally. "My wrist hurts," he said softly. "I probably have a bruise there and one formin' around my shoulder from where the gun hit it briefly. But they're just bruises."

"Let me check your wrist, make sure it's not more severe?  I can find something to help with the pain while it heals as well, I'm sure," he didn’t know what else to offer the smaller man at the moment.  It seemed almost an ill-suited time for an apology.

"I don't need the painkillers," he answered, voice still soft. Part of him felt like he ought to remember the pain. "But you can check it if you like."

The doctor looked skeptical at that, but nodded, reaching over to gently take Mistoffelees' hand, sliding his sleeve up so he could check his wrist over.  He swallowed hard and his jaw tensed at the purpling bruise around the other's wrist.

Swallowing, Mistoffelees shifted slightly. "It..." He couldn't really justify it in any way.

"It is bruised pretty severely, but I don't see signs of further damage.  If anything beyond an ache like a bruise comes up let me know, please."

"Okay," Mistoffelees said softly, meeting his eyes.

Coricopat let go of Mistoffelees' hand, though he didn’t' step back, "I...did..."  He shook his head, opting not to ask.

"What?" the mechanic asked, searching for his eyes again.

He drew a deep breath, "Did you care for him?"

"Care for him?" Mistoffelees asked. "Of course I... cared for him. In some way or another."

"I..." Coricopat hesitated, "I know you didn't know him for very long, but... well, did you... did you have event he inkling that you could love him?"

"Yeah," Mistoffelees said softly. "I coulda. I didn't, but I coulda. If there had been more time and he hadn't held a gun to my head."

The doctor dropped his gaze and nodded slightly, "I'm sorry."

"Nothin' about this is your fault," Mistoffelees said, taking half a step closer.

"I meant for your loss, but I do know that."

Dropping his eyes, the dark haired mechanic nodded, folding his spine slightly in on himself. "Besides, as much as I believe it's possible to love two people, it would have been hard to try and love him with you always around."

Coricopat froze at that, raising his gaze to try and meet the other's eyes, "You mean..."

"What do you think I've ever meant?" Mistoffelees asked, looking up at him again.

"I don't know.” The doctor shook his head, “I...in case you haven’t figured it out I'm horrible at reading other people, and I didn't want to risk seeing what I _wanted_ to see rather than what was actually there."

Mistoffelees inched forward, tilting his head back to meet his eyes. "How could you ever think you were readin' things into...?" he started and shook his head slightly. "I wouldn't let anyone jerk me around like you have and still come back for more, you know.  I love you."

Coricopat swallowed hard at that, "And I've felt like such a fool every time I've done so.  I love you too, but it absolutely terrifies me."

Biting his lip, Mistoffelees nodded. "It's one thin' to want someone, it's another to love them."

The doctor nodded, "It is.  It's so vastly different.  But I feel both for you.  I want you so badly I fear I will go mad some days, but I love you so much that I hurt just as much."  He hesitated, "When I walked into that cargo hold today and was faced with the very real possibility of losing you..."  He shook his head, "I don't know that I've ever been that scared."

Mistoffelees took a deep breath, leaning closer. "You've seen me shot before," he murmured. "But, god. I can't dance around you anymore like this. I just can't."

"I've seen you shot, and I’m still trying to forgive myself for nearly letting you bleed out.  But a gut wound and a head wound are two different things."  He swallowed, a hand coming up to rest on the other's cheek, "And I can't do this anymore either.  It's driving us both mad.  We're at each other's throats, or I'm at yours.  It's...not healthy."

The shorter man swallowed. "No it's not."

"What are we going to do about it?"

"I don't know," he said, eyes slipping toward the cargo hold. "And I don't know right now."

Coricopat trailed his gaze in that direction as well, "Then we give it time.  We're at least aware now."

Meeting his eyes again, Mistoffelees nodded. "Alright. That's somethin', yeah?"

"It very much is, yes.

Mistoffelees leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Coricopat and burying his face in his chest. The doctor startled very slightly at that, but responded with less hesitation than usual, his arms coming to wrap protectively around the smaller man, one hand moving to stroke over his hair.  The smaller man finally allowed himself to start shaking, pressing closer.

"Shh, it's alright, let it out."

For a moment Mac paused in the doorway, watching the pair of them before carefully stepping away and shooing Tugger off from the area. He and the doctor could talk later.

In the meantime, Mistoffelees allowed himself to collapse against the other. Coricopat glanced toward the door having thought he'd heard someone, but quickly returned his full attention to the man in his arms, murmuring soft nothings to him, giving him physical support and as much mental support as he could as well.


End file.
